The Dennison House
by urbankazoos
Summary: Spencer Carlin is a high-class call girl whose life is thrown into chaos once she begins living at The Dennison House. She meets Ashley Davies and begins a tumultuous--if not dangerous--relationship. What begins in chaos ends in chaos...or does it?
1. Chapter 1

For those of you who have read my stories before, let me warn you, this is quite a bit different. I hope you enjoy it. We're going to move pretty fast so that I can start with the follow-up story.

_**Chapter 1:**_

I loved the money. And I was good at it. I'm good at everything I try more than once, and I had most definitely tried sex more than once. We all have our talents, our God-given skills, the instruments that produce our purpose whether it be good or bad. Sex was my instrument. It wasn't all I had, but it was the skill I had chosen to perfect.

But I knew better than to become some common street whore. I still felt as though I was above that, no matter how morally repugnant the masses find my line of work. I deal with the wealthy, the uptight "gentlemen" in their stifling suits and pictures of their crumbling families inside their thick wallets. I deal with the type of man who sobs after he receives a blowjob because he knows it will happen again and eventually—maybe not immediately, but almost certainly—his wife will find out. I deal with the type of man who's arrogant enough to believe he deserves me at least one night a week simply as a reward for all the late-nights he spends in the office he made sure was large enough to over-compensate for what he lacked elsewhere. I give them something they can't find on the streets of L.A. at two in the morning or from a hole sawed into some splintery rectangle of wood which despite its name is usually far from glorious. I give them class. I look like I belong at the upscale hotels where they take me for an hour of whatever they can afford. Their desires aren't being fulfilled by someone whose personal desire is for drugs. I have no habits unless shopping qualifies. I'm not a radical feminist looking to reclaim some primal, feminine act. I'm simply a girl who recognized her talents and learned how to make a profit off of every single one of them.

My name—Spencer Carlin—seemed to get whispered enough on the top floor of office buildings and in the corners of cocktail and prescription parties to earn me a reputation as one of the best. I was discrete, attractive, and very, very good. I knew that it wouldn't take long for me to reach my goal. Yes, I had a goal. Believe it or not. And that goal was to become one of them. One of his. I wanted to join the Dennison House.

Aiden Dennison was a stockbroker by day. He was good at what he did because he listened. Every detail, every hushed conversation, every memo transcribed in the fabric of his mind as if one day if would pay off for him ten-fold. And he was right. He heard the stories from the men around him about their bitter, old, prudish wives who would rather shop in Hollywood than have sex with their husbands. They talked about turning to strip clubs and eventually prostitutes, but the risk was great and the result wasn't always satisfying. These men needed a private network. Aiden made that happen.

It's hard to say how he found them, but eventually he did. The women that came to fill the rooms of the Dennison House were the best of the best. All beautiful, all talented, all desiring the money that quickly came pouring in. And everyone knew it would.

It took me almost a year in the business to get that call from Aiden, but once I did I knew I had made it. He asked me to move in and of course, I hesitated. I couldn't let him think I was too easy or just a dumb girl with a pretty face. It was important that the women of the Dennison House were intelligent as well. Dumb girls aren't often discrete. And trust me, they're everywhere. No one comes to the Dennison House looking for a dumb girl they could find at any bar in any town of this great country of ours. No, of course not. Because not only do dumb girls eventually squeal, they fall in love.

Remaining polite but ultimately unattainable is key.

Don't get me wrong. You occasionally find yourself warming up to a client, but that's when a smart girl knows to remind herself of the reality of her situation. A teacher isn't supposed to fall in love with her students. A plumber tends to his own pipes. A maid doesn't confess her feelings to the broom. Why should my job be any different?

I waited in the driveway of the Dennison House in the back of Aiden's limo. The driver had picked me up from my old apartment right on time, seemed to know exactly where he was going, but wasn't the best conversationalist. I assumed that the less he spoke, the less he had to explain to Aiden later. Perhaps it would be wise to adopt his philosophy.

Finally Aiden opened the door. Surprisingly casual, he motioned for me to scoot over and immediately took my hand.

"We're so glad to have you here, Spencer."

"I'm glad to be here, Mr. Dennison."

"Oh, come on. You can call me Aiden."

"Ok, then. I'm glad to be here, _Aiden_."

"Good, good. Well perhaps I should tell you what you're getting yourself into here, huh?"

"I'm actually quite familiar…"

"No, I mean the others. The other women in the house."

"Oh, I see."

"Ashley, Kyla, and Madison."

"Just three?" I ask, surprised.

"Only the best."

"Hmm…"

"Ashley and Kyla are sisters, actually. I guess you can imagine there's quite the rivalry."

"Of course."

"But between you and me, Ashley's the best. She can easily make fifteen thousand a week."

"Really?"

"Easily."

It was going to be to my advantage to know as much about her as I possibly could. She was the competition, and Spencer Carlin doesn't _do_ competition.

"Well, good for her," I said with a tight smile.

"Jealous?"

"I'm not sure. I've never been jealous before so I'm not sure what that feels like."

Aiden smiled, "Well, then there won't be an issue, I suppose."

"Absolutely not."

He nodded and opened the door, gesturing for me to follow him. I got my first clear view of the house, which was colonial and enormous. Four women could easily occupy it without any problem. I wasn't quite sure yet whether it could accommodate all of their egos as well.

Before Aiden could slip the key in the lock, the door swung wide open and there stood the breathtaking competition. There would definitely be an issue.

-------------

"This is her?" she asks Aiden as she leans against the doorframe, "This is Spencer?"

Her brown hair is pulled back in an afterthought of a ponytail. She's wearing a soft pink robe that doesn't even pretend to be directly covering anything other that her bare skin, and her face says she's almost always unimpressed with what she sees before her—which in this case happens to be me. It was this type of woman who almost instantly made me feel like the awkward teenage version of myself instead of a woman men would risk their career and families for. I was thirteen years-old, a forgotten concoction of evident bones and bad posture and she was the girl who was born knowing exactly how to get what she wanted. The girl who had never known a moment of awkwardness or uncertainty at her own reflection or even the word "no." I swallowed hard.

"Spencer, this is Ashley. Ashley…Spencer," Aiden said, smiling. I couldn't really tell if this was a new smile or he had yet to relieve himself of the one from the limo. Either way, I'm sure he meant to assure me. He was obviously familiar with people falling apart in front of this intimidating brunette.

She offered a forced smile—no teeth—and grabbed Aiden's shoulder, "I need to talk to you."

"Can it wait? I really want to get Spencer settled in and…"

"No, it can't. I need to talk. She doesn't mind."

She didn't wait for an answer. She simply walked into the open foyer without hesitation. Aiden glanced at me—a silent apology—and followed Ashley into what I assumed was her bedroom. The door closed and I could only make out the rhythm of her voice and his short muffled replies before another girl descended the spiral staircase.

"Are you Spencer?" she asked.

"Yeah…yes, I'm Spencer."

"Well it's nice to meet you. I'm Kyla. I can show you where to bring your stuff if you want. Your room's right next to mine."

"That would be great."

"Here," she said, grabbing the one small suitcase I had exited the limo with in my haste to follow Aiden, "I'll get this one. You have more, right? In the limo?"

"Yeah."

"Aiden will have Eric bring them up. Eric's the driver."

"He didn't exactly introduce himself."

"He's not a big talker, actually."

"I gathered."

We went upstairs and seemed to walk down several adjacent hallways before finally arriving at my new room.

"I'll let you do the honors," Kyla said, standing aside so I could open the door.

As soon as it swung open, I saw the benefit of living in this house. It was the kind of room that every girl dreams about. The kind of unrealistic room portrayed on sitcoms and movies. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the longest wall and a huge poster bed sat in wait. There were two additional doors. One most likely a closet and the other a bathroom. Ah yes, I could get used to this life.

"Nice, huh?" Kyla asked, "I always liked this room."

"So why isn't it yours?"

"Mine is bigger."

"Bigger," I repeated needlessly.

"Yeah, and somehow I've never been able to get over the idea that bigger is better."

"I see," I replied, refraining from making any of the jokes running through my head.

"Plus, Ashley's is the biggest."

"Does she have the only room on the first floor?"

"Yeah."

"Why is that?"

"She gets the most clients, and they come all the time so the closer she is to the front door the better."

"Wow."

"I know, right? It's ridiculous but it's the way it is."

"She seems…"

"Like a bitch? That's because she is. She's a huge fucking bitch," Kyla said, but she was no longer looking at me. She looked very far away all of a sudden.

"Oh."

"But anyway, I can give you the tour. We eat dinner around seven. Everyone usually just takes it in their room but you can eat in the dining room. Ashley's the only one who eats in there now. But that's only because she thinks she's so much better than everyone else."

"Uh…ok."

Aiden wasn't kidding about this rivalry.

"You can have at-home visits from your clients or if you prefer you can meet them elsewhere. It's really up to you."

"Does Aiden have a preference?"

"He doesn't interfere with the way we work. Trust me, he knows that our clients follow us. If we ever wanted to leave, we could. And our clientele would be right behind us."

"Then what does he get out of it?"

"The guys in the…let's call it a network. The guys in the network pay him for leading them to us. Then they pay us for services provided. It's easier to make money in the network than on your own so it's easy to part with enough of the profit for Aiden's part of the work. Plus, there's the house. You don't have to worry about being out there on your own. If one of us goes missing, someone will notice. It makes you more than just some anonymous whore, you know?"

"I never felt like that."

"I've been attacked, ok? Even though I was only serving supposedly upstanding citizens of the business world. Sometimes I think they're worse than the guys you get on the street. I've been raped. I can't even tell you how many times I've been threatened. But now I'm apart of a circle. I feel a lot safer. Aiden knows these men. More importantly, he knows their wives…their families."

"Leverage."

"Exactly."

"All the appeal of a sorority."

"Less sex than a sorority," Kyla said, laughing.

------------------------

I got the tour as promised. I saw the kitchen, the pool, the parlor…everything. I met the maids, the gardener, the cook, and John (the security guy.) By the time I made it back to my room I realized Eric had already retrieved all my suitcases. They were lined up like some sort of strange army by my bed.

Kyla had informed me that Madison is absent the most, preferring to meet up with clients _outside_ of the house. Ashley was present the most, taking most of her clients in her bedroom. And Kyla varied as I imagined I would. She seemed nice enough, though she continued making offhanded remarks about Ashley. It really made a girl wonder what the history was on those two. I pictured two spoiled little girls fighting over who got to ride the family's favorite pony. Their career choice a sure jab at their proper upbringing, a dig at their father for never being home. Whatever the case, I imagined a rivalry was good for business. Kyla was always seeking out new clients and I had to stifle a laugh when I glanced her copy of _Sex For Dummies_. I couldn't blame her though. It was a good idea to spruce up the old repertoire every once in awhile.

As the sun set and the house grew dark, I became harshly aware of how lonely I felt. Kyla was "entertaining" and there was nothing good to watch on the obnoxiously large television my room had come equipped with. I lay in bed—lights off—just waiting for something to happen. There's nothing in life that doesn't eventually become boring, ordinary. Even for me.

Suddenly I heard a soft knock at my door before it was pushed open, light immediately flooding in fraction by fraction. Once my eyes adjusted to the light I could see that a small shadow of a person was emerging.

It was Ashley.

She closed the door behind her and walked the distance of my room in mere seconds before reaching the side of my bed.

"Are you asleep?" she asked softly.

"No, no," I replied, sitting up quickly, "I'm awake."

"Good."

"Is something wrong?"

"Why would something be wrong?" she asked with a smirk.

"I don't know, you just walked in. I thought maybe you needed something."

"I knocked."

"I don't really…" I began, but was silenced as Ashley slid her robe off and climbed in next to me.

"Whoa…wow…what's going on?"

"Listen, don't freak out. You're the new girl. Starting tomorrow you'll have a whole new set of clients and they're expecting to get their money's worth. How else are we going to find out that you have what it takes before you go and represent this house?"

"I don't think I understand."

"Calm down. I did the same thing with Madison…would've done it with Kyla but the whole incest thing doesn't really do it for me. Not that sleeping with you would do anything for me."

"I still don't…what?" I was absolutely confused now. And to be honest, I was a little panicked.

"It's just a trial run, Spencer. Please…relax," she said before closing the space between our mouths.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks so much for the feedback, guys. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 2:**

I had never been kissed like this before. I had never felt like I was being tested, like every touch was being recorded in some sort of sexual data bank. Ashley's hands spoke contradictions all over my skin. Somehow she could touch me everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

"I don't understand," I managed between the kisses she was gently applying to my lips, "Aiden already knows my reputation. He knows what I'm capable of, Ashley."

"What's your point?" she asks, sitting up to stare at me in the darkness.

"I know that he's only smart enough to move people in that he trusts can deliver. He wouldn't have taken a risk on me like that and you know it. So what are you doing?" I ask, the truth dawning on me the more I speak the words aloud, "why are you here?"

"You're the competition, Blondie. I want to why _you're_ here."

"I imagine for the same reason you are."

"He needed a blonde."

"A lot of people have a preference. It was a smart move on Aiden's part."

She simply shook her head.

"And you kissed me," I say after an awkward moment of silence.

"So?"

"I don't know about you, but it's kind of an unspoken rule that you're not supposed to let that happen. It's too intimate. People can easily form attachments."

"I know all the attachment theories, thank you very much."

"Fine, then why did you kiss me?"

"Why did you let me?"

"Why do you answer questions with questions?"

"Why do you ask so many?"

"Why are you still here?"

"Because you're still talking."

She was smiling now, and I took a second to live in the moment because I imagine a girl like her doesn't allow that to happen often.

"I don't think your sister likes you very much," I say, not exactly knowing where the statement comes from. A desire to change the subject will make you immediately less tactful.

"Who, Kyla? Oh, whatever. She's jealous, ok? She's always been really jealous of me."

"Not many people make this a family business."

"Well, for a girl that supposedly hates me she sure follows me around a lot."

"I see. And one day she followed you to some guy's dick?"

"Very funny," Ashley says, but her face is serious again, "it's a long story."

"And I'll gladly let you tell it if you promise to put your robe back on."

She reaches down and retrieves her robe from the floor, but she doesn't speak.

"Ashley?"

"Yeah?"

"I really, really don't want things to be weird between us. I don't want to be unrealistic either. I know that competition is the nature of the game. But this is my home now. I don't want to feel uncomfortable here."

"And you won't. If you realize that I'm always going to be on top. I'm very good at what I do, Spencer."

"So am I."

She gives me a look that I can't quite read in the dark, and I realize that I had under-estimated my new housemate. Being the best was truly all she seemed to care about. I didn't know her well enough to know how far she was willing to go to stay on top, but the determination I could read in her eyes was enough to make me question my safety in the house. I was worried enough to vocalize.

"Should I be scared, Ashley? Is this where we are? I should be scared of you?"

She looks offended, "Why would you be scared?"

"Listen, I like making money. I like being the best. But at the end of the day this is just a job for me. Is it just a job for you…or is there something else?"

"It's about the money, ok? I need to save a lot of money for something."

"For what?"

"We just met, Spencer. I'm not about to sit here and give you my life story. Just know that it's about the money. But no…you shouldn't be scared of me. I wouldn't hurt you or anyone else. I'm not like that anymore."

"Fine. But let me know if the person you used to be makes an appearance so I can go out and buy myself some pepper spray."

She laughs, "I'll let you know."

----------------

The next day was a busy one. I had three clients. I decided to meet them elsewhere, not sure if I wanted to taint the aura of my new room with work. My talk with Ashley had gone over better than expected, though she had left herself just mysterious enough for my guard to remain intact. The last thing I needed was a surprise visit in the night with a pair of scissors or you know…a gun.

My clients were nice enough and they all probably had more money than God and the moral compass of the devil. The last guy was a rookie and excused himself to the bathroom three times before committing to a little over a minute of hang time. In the real world that would be considered an embarrassment. In my world that equals an early lunch.

When I got home the house was seemingly empty. I had made it halfway through the foyer before I heard the voices. Ashley's door opened and Aiden exited looking rather…satisfied.

"We can't keep doing this, Ash. I'm serious."

"Is that your wife talking or is that what you really want?" Ashley asked, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

"I don't know. Both?"

I prayed to every religious deity I had studied in high school that they wouldn't see me. Something told me this wasn't the kind of information a person was meant to discover.

"Aiden, please. You have nothing to worry about. Come on…stay for awhile longer. She won't even know the difference."

Luckily, Ashley pulled Aiden by his collar back into her room and shut the door behind them. I let out a sigh of relief and climbed the stairs to my room.

--------------------------

I stayed in my room for hours after that, wondering how this new-found information would affect my role in the house. Maybe it wouldn't at all. Maybe it would completely. It was too early to know. One thing that was very clear to me, however, was that there was a strong possibility no one else knew. It seemed strange to me that an intelligent business man like Aiden would allow himself to become so personally entangled in the business. It didn't make sense. But if Ashley is in fact as good as she's rumored to be, perhaps it made all the sense in the world.

Around eight that night after the sun had settled and the house seemed to come alive with the noise of the four girls whose secrets still managed to surpass the intrigue of their occupational choices even in all of its taboo and supposed glamour, I met Madison. I had finally left my room at the demand of my screaming appetite and there she was at the kitchen counter eating a bowl of Fruit Loops and flipping through the latest issue of "Traditional Home." The irony seemed to be lost on her completely, and when she saw me she smiled and closed the magazine to offer me her full attention.

"I'm Madison."

"Spencer," I replied, offering my hand.

"I'm sorry we haven't met until now. I don't really take clients here and sometimes I get in really late."

"I understand. In fact, I think I'm going to follow your lead and keep most of my business outside as well. It just makes the most sense to me."

"I always thought so too. But don't try to convince Ashley. She'll swear up and down that nothing beats the convenience of having them come to you."

"Oh, I'm sure she does."

"So, how do you like it so far? Well, the house I mean."

"It's nice. I like it a lot. Well…you know, I'm trying to figure out how I fit in here but…"

"Listen, if that's what you're waiting for…it'll never happen. You just do the same job you've always done and save your money. The turnover here is insane. New girls all the time."

"Really?" I asked, surprised I hadn't thought of this possibility before.

"Of course."

"How long have you been here?"

"Around five months now. I figure if I play my cards right I can finish out the year."

"Well what about Ashley and Kyla? How long have they been here?"

"You don't know? Ashley's been here since the beginning. So a couple years, I guess. And it's hard to say exactly how long Kyla's been here, but I'm guessing she came in a couple months after Ashley."

"What's different about them? Why do they get to stay?"

Madison shrugs and eats a spoonful of cereal before answering, "Maybe their pussies are made of gold."

She smiles at this and resumes flipping through her magazine.

But my inquisitive nature won't let it be that simple. I have to know the truth. That's when I decide to show Ashley my hand and see how she responds. I know I could be putting my job in jeopardy but I can't seem to help myself. I've never been praised for my incredible sense of control.

After grabbing a banana from the fruit basket on the counter and saying goodnight to Madison, I walk down the hall to Ashley's room ready to find my answers. I press my ear to the door, listening to see if she's alone.

She is, and so I knock softly and then louder as the seconds progress.

I'm about to give up and head back to my room but suddenly the heavy door swings open.

She's standing before me in a gorgeous black dress that reveals perfectly tanned shoulders and just enough of everything else to make my heart stop for a moment too long.

"Oh, hi," I say, swallowing back the words I really want to say.

"What do you want, Spencer?"

"Can I…can we talk?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I'm on my way out. I don't have time."

"Then when? When can we talk?"

"I really don't know."

"Where are you going?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"This is important, Ashley."

"I somehow doubt that, but…I don't know. How late will you be up?"

"Late. I'm finding that I don't really sleep that well here."

"Alright, well I'll come by your room when I get back, ok?"

"Ok, yeah. That's fine."

She closed the door then, leaving me alone in the hall. My heart was beating wildly against my chest. Talking to her makes me so incredible anxious that I almost always feel a little sick to my stomach afterwards. But not in a bad way. It's just…different.

After pulling myself together as much as possible, I journeyed back to my room. I had almost reached the door when I remembered something futile in my quest for finding out what was really going on in this house.

I knocked on her door, hoping she would hear me over the bass of her music. But apparently she was used to listening for sudden knocking because she swung it open almost immediately.

"Hey, Spencer. What's up?"

"Madison, I have to ask you something kinda…weird."

"I get asked weird things all the time," she laughed, "do you want to come in?"

"No, this will only take a second."

"Ok…"

"Um…wow. I'm so sorry that I'm asking you this, but…have you slept with Ashley?"

"Have I slept with Ashley?"

I can't exactly read her face, so I just nod.

"Why are you asking me this?"

"My first night here, she told me that she had like…_tested_ you."

"Tested me?"

"Look, I don't know how to say it without sounding like an idiot. You know what I'm getting at, right?"

"I've never slept with Ashley. And as far as I know, she hasn't 'tested' anyone who's lived here."

"So she's lying?"

"It wouldn't be the first time."

I felt more stupid in that moment that I ever had before in my life. Why would I assume she was telling the truth about this? Why did I care so much to begin with?

"Sorry, Madison. I just…I had to know," I say before turning around and heading towards my room.

"It's ok. But, Spencer?"

"Yeah?" I say, stopping in front of my door.

"That doesn't mean she didn't try."

-------------------------

We stare at each other a moment longer before she too, leaves me alone in the hall wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into.

I took a long bath. It was absolutely necessary that I clear my head before everything spun violently out of control. I had no idea what to think of Ashley now. Though she had told me there was no reason to be fearful of her or what seemed like an unhealthy obsession with defeating the competition, I was beginning to worry. It was obvious that her relationship with Aiden was the driving force behind what kept her in the house as other girls fell by the wayside over time. It could also be assumed that Ashley was using her power over Aiden to solidify her sister's place in the house as well. Though if that were the case, why would Kyla resent her so much?

I sank deeper into my bubble bath, allowing the water to provide a comfort that my head could not. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, needing the calm more than I could ever explain. But just as I had felt the tension easing its way out of my body, my cell phone rang. I dried my hand the best I could with the limited amount of time and reached beside the tub for my phone.

"Hello?" I said, picking up just in the nick of time.

"Spencer, it's me."

"Aiden, hi. What's up?"

I hadn't spoken to him since that first day and definitely not since I saw him leaving Ashley's room. And just like that, the anxiety had settled right back in.

"There's someone I want you to meet tomorrow. His name is David Pierce."

"David Pierce…as in Pierce Construction? _That_ David Pierce?"

"So you've heard of him?"

Of course I had heard of him. The man had practically built L.A.

"Yes, I'm familiar."

"Excellent. Well he's interested in getting to know you and I assumed you'd be interested as well."

"Of course. Is this just a meeting or…"

"I'm sure you know it's not just a meeting."

"I see."

"He's been waiting months for a blonde. His wife likes blondes."

Wife?

"Wait a second. Am I sleeping with him or am I sleeping with the wife?"

"Technically you'd be sleeping with him and his wife…but also…"

"There's someone else?"

"David is one of Ashley's best clients. He's had a mutually beneficial business relationship with her for quite awhile."

"Ok, so I'm sleeping with him, his wife, and Ashley? It's a foursome?"

"It's a lot of money, Spencer. _A lot_."

"How much?"

"You would split the ten-thousand with Ash."

"Does she know about this?"

For some reason the thought of being engaged in any sort of sexual activity with Ashley sent a chill down my spine.

"She knows."

"And she's willing?"

"She's willing."

"I'll do it. What time?"

"I'll call you in the morning with all he details. Trust me, this is a very, very good thing for your future. David is one of—if not the best—clients we do business with. And if he likes you…"

"I think I understand. Thank you, Aiden."

"I'll call you tomorrow."

I dropped the phone, wondering how big of a grave I was willing to dig for myself before I simply jumped inside.

------------------------

Ashley knocked on my door at exactly 2 AM. I was still wide-awake and called for her to come inside. It was dark, just like the night before…when she had lied to me.

"I'm surprised you're still awake. As I'm sure you heard, we have a busy day tomorrow," she said, settling down at the end of my bed.

"Yes, I heard."

"David's wife is pretty cool. I think you'll like her. It's more important that she likes you, though…of course."

"Obviously."

"So what did you need to talk about?"

"You lied to me," I blurted out, cursing myself as soon as I heard the words in the air.

Ashley sighed, "When did I lie to you?"

"You never slept with Madison."

"Ok, so…"

"That's it? That's all you're going to say?"

"This isn't Girl Scouts, Spencer. There's no oath of honesty or whatever. I'm sorry, ok? But seriously, get over it."

"Why would you lie? What's the point? I mean, maybe I'm just stupid or naïve or something. But I thought we could be friends. I wanted to be your friend."

I sounded ridiculous. I had no idea when I became this annoying, teenage version of myself.

"I don't really do the friend thing."

"Fine, just forget it."

Ashley smiled and it enraged me even further. I had no desire to amuse her.

"Spencer…"

"No, forget it. Seriously, forget it."

She slid closer to me on the bed, lifting my chin with her fingers. Her touch sent a wave of pleasure through my body, leaving me terrified.

"The truth is," she began, her fingers finally leaving my skin, "you're really, really beautiful. And you're the first girl that's come into the house that actually made me scared. It's like I told you last night, I need this money. The last thing I need is some gorgeous blonde coming into my house and taking all my clients. And now there's David's wife…what if they like you better? What if…I don't know. It's not exactly personal, but last night I wasn't ready to admit to you that I was worried."

I had been called beautiful before, but when Ashley said it I felt like it was the very first time. Or at least the only time that mattered. And it was too early for this. She couldn't be trusted with my feelings now. Maybe she never could. But regardless, there was a very real attraction forming and I knew I had to deal with it before she noticed and used it to her advantage.

"Ok, I guess I understand."

Ashley nodded, looking right into my eyes.

"Anything else?" she asked after a moment.

"No."

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

She nodded again, "Have you ever done a foursome?"

"I can't say that I have."

"You'll be fine. Just follow my lead. I know these two very well. They'll probably want us to do a lot of stuff together while they watch, then she'll get in on the action and he'll watch and then we all…well, you know."

"Right, and you're cool with that?"

"With what?"

"I don't know."

I wanted to ask if she was as completely overwhelmed at the idea of us touching for any pro-longed period of time as I was. But I couldn't. I had to remain in control.

"What? Tell me," she prodded softly.

"Do you think we should…practice?"

What the fuck was I doing? Since when was I this embarrassing and awkward? Since when did I actually voice what I was thinking? What the fuck…

Ashley laughed, "You're funny. You'll do great. And if you don't then I don't have to worry about you stealing my clientele."

I laughed nervously with her, "Right."

"If you don't want anything else, I'm going to go to bed. I'm exhausted. I just went to go see the one of the three clients I won't invite back to the house. Oh my God. That man is so…"

"Goodnight," I said, not exactly yearning to hear the details of her night.

"Sorry. See? That's why I'm bad at this friendship stuff. Too many details."

"Wait. Does that mean you're willing to consider me a friend?"

"We'll see."


	3. Chapter 3

_thanks, guys! enjoy!_

**Chapter 3:  
**

I began my morning with two straight shots of vodka and an hour of power yoga. I was on edge. No, I was holding onto the edge with my feet dangling in mid-air. Aiden had called and informed me that we were meeting the Pierces at seven for dinner. Apparently these two had some sort of weird routine they followed before actually engaging in the evening's scheduled romp. They liked to take girls out to dinner, then go for drinks at the bar in the lobby of the hotel they reserve every week. Afterwards Mrs. Pierce invites everyone up to the room for "conversation" and eventually demands that everyone strip. Every client has their own thing, though I have to admit, these people had the most elaborate "thing" of all. Ashley detailed it for me while she watched the "People's Court" in the media room—a place I hadn't spent very much time in at all. I was always too anxious to settle in for a movie and a bowl of popcorn, but if Ashley spent time there I could guarantee I would visit more often.

She also suggested I wear a skirt because Mrs. Pierce liked to fondle girls at dinner. Needless to say, I was very interested to meet this infamous wife. So, I spent the majority of the morning choosing an outfit—complete with the shortest skirt I owned. It was black and silk, ending a mere inch below my ass. Once I had found just the right sheer blouse to match it, I called my mother, who I hadn't spoken to in over three weeks.

"Hi, mom. It's me."

"Spence! How are you? Wait, I can barely hear you!"

"Mom!"

"Hold on, you're breaking up. Wait a minute!"

"Mom?"

"Ok, can you hear me?"

"Yeah."

"How are you? It's been awhile."

"I'm good, mom. I've been busy but I'm good."

"How's work? Anything exciting?"

"Not really. Believe it or not, working at the library isn't all that exciting."

"But you're busy?"

"Shelving and all that. You know."

"Right, well don't let work keep you from living your life, Spence. Have you met anyone?"

"I meet people all the time."

"Anybody worth your time?"

"I don't know, mom. My time is worth quite a lot these days."

"Well, I don't want you to forget about what's important. Starting a family is what it's all about. You can't tell me you're not ready to find a husband and settle down. If I have to wait for your brother to give me some more grandkids, I'll be too old to pick them up!"

"Mom, please. I'm way too young to settle down."

"So you say."

"It's true. But if I meet someone, you'll be the first to know."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

-------------------

"Nervous?" Ashley asked as we sat in the back of the limo.

"I don't know. Should I be?"

"I can't answer that for you."

"I'm always nervous when I'm not familiar with the clients. But I'll be fine. I'm a professional."

She laughs, "I'm sure you are."

"Are _you_ nervous?"

"I've fucked these people before," she answers, bluntly.

"You've never fucked me."

"I guess you're right. Well, I don't know, Spencer. Should I be?" she smiles, then turns and stares out the tinted window.

"I can't answer that for you."

"I'm excited to see you in action. It's always interesting to see why it is a girl gets chosen for the house."

"And that's all?"

"What else do you want me to say?"

"Never mind."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I _said_ never mind."

"Ok, calm down. Are you always…wound so tight?"

"No, I've just been really stressed lately."

"Well let it go. It's going to be a long night. Trust me."

"Yeah, I know. I know."

Ashley reaches for my hand, sending those familiar chills through my body, "I know I'm probably not the one you want to confide in or whatever but I can try to be…you know, a friend."

"I'm ok," I reply, pulling my hand away, "I really am."

"Alright."

Conversation wasn't as easy to come by after that. It's not that I didn't want to talk to Ashley. It wasn't even a lack of things to say. I simply couldn't trust myself around her for long periods of time. I had this strange tendency to actually say what was on my mind, and contrary to popular belief honesty is not always the best policy.

But every few minutes she would turn and stare at me, her beauty radiant even in my peripheral. And maybe that was all there was to it. Maybe I was simply feeling a physical attraction. It had been a really long time since I had separated my sex life from work and maybe I was just growing used to the idea of attraction again.

"We're here," Ashley said, waiting for Eric to open the door before grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the limo and onto the sidewalk, "be cool, ok? Trust me. It's going to be a walk in the park."

A walk in the park? Apparently no one had ever sat this girl down and explained that some phrases don't work for every occasion.

We hurried past the stone fountain and right inside, where I immediately recognized the surroundings. I had been here before on one of my very first jobs. Though I didn't exactly have the opportunity to walk down memory lane with Ashley preferring the fast lane instead. She seemed noticeably more tense since our arrival. It made me wonder if she was like this before she met every client or if there was something about this particular one that brought out the edge.

We were escorted to the table by a hostess who barely took our names, almost as if she had seen Ashley before. As we approached I immediately noted the dynamics between Mr. and Mrs. Pierce. I couldn't help but laugh a little out of utter relief.

It was your basic, everyday stereotype of the older rich guy with the bi-curious, blonde, trophy wife and I absolutely reveled in it. Because even as I allowed my attraction for Ashley to pluck away at the strands of my sanity, some things never changed. I still knew this business like the back of hand. And soon Mrs. Pierce was going to be very familiar with that very same hand.

"Hi, I'm Spencer," I said, directly facing Mr. Pierce and then the Mrs. as well.

Ashley looked slightly caught off guard. I guess she assumed she'd be doing most of the talking this evening.

"Spencer, I'm Maureen. It's very nice to meet you. Come. Come sit down here right next to me," the blonde said, patting the seat beside her.

"And Ashley," David said, obviously still impressed by his familiar brunette, "I'd love for you to keep me company on this side."

Ashley gave a polite smile before sitting next to David and consequently across from me.

"So, shall we order?" the lone male at our dysfunctional table asked as we all settled in.

"I already know what I want," Maureen answered, and just like that she showed me why she preferred skirts.

-------------------

The night had gone as expected, everything happening exactly in the order that Ashley had said it would. Maureen was all over me and by the time we made it up to their hotel room for "conversation", my nerves had subsided completely. Instead I slipped into the persona I had come to know very, very well over the past few years. You see, I'm often asked (by the few who actually know my line of work) how I do it. Isn't it scary? Don't you feel violated? You know, the usual line of questioning for a whore. I mean, that's what I am right? That's what you think. No one seems to believe me when I say my job is just like anyone else's.

David spread across the bed on his back, contented to watch the events unfold before participating himself.

"Spencer, maybe you and Ashley should…" Maureen said, sitting next to her husband, "maybe you should show us why you're called professionals."

So this was it. In the excitement of the evening I had almost forgotten that this moment would happen. Ashley seemed to notice my sudden discomfort and closed the gap between us herself, pulling me close.

"Relax, Spence," she whispered against my ear, sending a rush of heat to every single part of my body.

Then she begins the show. I notice it in her eyes immediately when something changes and she's no longer my friend. She's a temporary partner. A strange co-worker. This moment isn't personal. It's a part of the job. And it hurts. So I pretend too. I'm completely over-the-top as I grab her.

"I guess the night can only go down from here," I say seductively, sliding down to my knees and raising Ashley's skirt.

No underwear. A nice professional choice.

But just as I'm going in for the first taste—eyes closed—the unexpected happens.

"I can't," Ashley says, stepping backwards.

"What? What did you say?" David asks, obviously as confused as I am as I kneel stupidly in the middle of the carpeted floor.

"I don't know…I just can't. I can't do this," Ashley repeats, and with that she turns and exits the room.

------------------------------

I finished the job. Like I said, I'm a professional. Though I can't say I gave the happy couple my full attention. Not like they noticed or anything. My first instinct was to run after Ashley and make her tell me exactly what the hell happened, but I quickly realized that if we both left it would be very, very bad for business. And though I could admit I had a very real—though extremely premature—crush on the Runaway Whore, business still came first.

Sorry, mom.

So once Maureen Pierce was laid sprawled across the king-size bed totally spent and with a satisfied smile to match, I took it as a sign that my work there was done. David cut me a $10,000 check and I quickly took it and ran to the elevator, anxious to confront Ashley.

I didn't have to go far.

I spotted her face-down at the bar downstairs. If it wasn't for the fact that I had memorized what the back of her head looked like, I wouldn't have noticed her at all. I approached her hesitantly, not quite sure which of her versions I was about to encounter.

"Ash," I said softly, gently placing my right hand on her shoulder.

I expected her to be startled, but instead she turned around slowly on her barstool wearing one the many faces people wear when they are completely and utterly wasted.

"Hi," she replies, grabbing my hand and holding it in her hers.

"Hey…are you ok?"

"Are _you_…are _you_ ok, Spencer?"

"I'm ok."

She brings her face really close to mine, "No, you're not. You think I'm stupid?"

"No, I don't. And really, I'm totally ok. I'm fine."

"Well so am I then."

"Good…great. We're both ok."

"I'm not ok."

I sigh, wanting to shake her and hold her all at the same time. I sit on the stool next to her, using the grip she has on my hands to steady her.

"What happened up there?" I ask, not even sure if she can answer that in her present state.

"I couldn't do it."

"I noticed. But why? What went wrong? Was it me?"

"Uh-huh," she says, taking another sip of her drink.

"You should get out of here. Are you hungry?"

"I'm fucking starving."

I nodded, knowing exactly where to take her, "Let's go."

--------------------

"Oh my God. These are literally the best fries I've ever had, Spencer," Ashley says between bites.

We shared a booth at Oinkster's. We were supposed to share the fries as well, but Ashley had pretty much monopolized the basket. Which was just fine with me. The powers of the fourth-grade crush I had her made it so that everything she did was interesting.

"So are you ready to talk now that you've eaten all the fries?" I asked. I wasn't above forcing the truth out of her. Even if it required another basket.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ashley said, "I didn't realize how hungry I was."

"Ash…"

"What?"

"Please talk to me. You left me solo up there tonight and I want to know why."

"I just…how can I explain this?" Ashley said, pressing herself back against the booth, "I don't know. I can't, I guess. I fucked up."

"You fucked up?"

"This is me fucking up right now…being here with you."

"How? Why?"

"This is why I didn't want friends in the house, Spencer. I don't want to mix business and…friendship."

"So why can't we be friends with profitable benefits?" I ask with a smile.

"Profitable benefits, huh?"

She smiled—finally—and it melted my heart just a little bit.

"Yeah. Why not? I mean, if you're scared of me then say you're scared of me."

"Why would I be scare of you?" she asked, still smiling.

"Because you're scared that you might like me."

A weird moment passed between us before I realized my mistake.

"I meant…as a friend. As a person," I stumbled.

"I know what you mean. Maybe you're right."

"What?"

"I _said_ maybe you're right. I don't really let myself get close to anyone anymore."

"You can trust me, Ashley. Seriously."

"How long have we known each other?"

"I know. I know, but there's something…I feel like I know you already. Maybe I just feel like I _want_ to know you but either way one thing I know for sure is that you can trust me."

"Like I said, we'll see, Spencer."

"That's what you say, but for some reason I feel like your 'we'll see' is someone else's 'drop it.'"

She laughs, but she looks tired of all of a sudden, "Can I tell you something?"

"Definitely."

"I have a daughter."

All I could do was nod. Her admission had obliterated my comprehensive vocabulary.

"And right now she's living with her father in San Diego."

"Do you see her?"

"No, um…my ex, her father won't let me see her."

"Why?"

"It's a long story. But I know I have a legal battle ahead of me, you know? And it's going to take a lot of money to fight for her."

"So that's why you're saving up?"

"Exactly. I can't do this forever…but I can do it as long as it takes. For her."

I grabbed her hand, seeing that the tears could come any second, "You'll get her, Ash."

"I hope so. I really, really miss her. She's really…you know, she's all I have."

We were silent for a few minutes, until my desire to touch her made me reach for her face. She flinched, but she allowed it and I took advantage of the opportunity to feel the softness of her skin under my fingertips. She surprises me by moving her face against my hand—eyes closed.

"Ash…"

As soon as she hears my voice, she pulls away.

"Let's go. It's really late, Spencer."

I could only watch as she dropped a twenty on the table and walked out.

-------------------------

Eric picked us up within fifteen minutes. I swear this guy's job was three or four times more demanding than mine. The ride back with Ashley was relatively quiet and it made me think we had regressed since the beginning of this evening. But this time I couldn't take it. The silence just fueled my thoughts and at this particular point in time, my thoughts were just too much to deal with.

"Will Aiden be mad?"

"Aiden won't care."

"Why not?"

"He just won't."

"Well he should. It's bad for business."

"Not that it should concern you at all, but David and I have a very good business relationship."

"So he won't care that you jumped ship tonight?"

"I'll make it up to him. Trust me."

"Ashley?"

"What?!" she said, obviously annoyed with me now.

"I wish you had stayed."

She looked confused, "Why?"

I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her that even though the thought of touching her made me ache everywhere, in places that I hadn't even thought about for a really long time, there was still nothing I wanted more. I wanted to tell her how good it felt to want that again.

But I couldn't. Not yet.

"Because Mrs. Pierce is a lot of work."

She laughs, "I tried to warn you."


	4. Chapter 4

**_I don't know why it's taking me this long to get chapters up. I should be able to do one per day but for some reason I feel it's a chore to click "publish" and "save." Since I curse the day I become that lazy, allow me to make up for it by making sure I have AT LEAST one a day for the rest of this week. I appreciate the feedback so much, and I'm really thankful to anyone who takes the time to read. So, thanks. I hope you're enjoying the story and if you are, PLEASE don't hesitate to let me know, ok? _**

**Chapter 4:**

And that's how it went for awhile. I developed and suppressed new feelings for Ashley everyday. I simply stored them and waited for an opportunity. Not that I truly believed it would ever come. She was wrapped so tight in defense mechanisms, it was almost impossible to imagine a time when she had trusted anyone else but herself. Yet for whatever reason, I saw it happening. I saw us happening. It just made too much cinematic sense, and I always was a believer in the Hollywood fairytale. So far I had only slept with directors and producers. But we all start somewhere I guess.

I talked to Madison sometimes. We would convene in the kitchen after a long day and decompress. This was a big step for me because I rarely discussed work with other people—especially in a circumstance such as the one she and I found ourselves in these days. It was a sisterhood of a strange sort. Sisterhood of the Traveling Whores. But I embraced it more and more as my time in the house went on. I had never had a sister of my own.

Ashley would come up to my room sometimes, sit on my bed, and listen to me talk. I imagine her definition of friendship is found in one-sided conversations and lots of uncomfortable staring. She seemed to enjoy our time together though. She seemed to enjoy the test she was convincing herself was subtle. She was working her way up to trusting me, and I was working up the nerve to handle what that trust required.

One thing I was still uneasy about was her relationship with Aiden. I've always been a terrible insomniac. Lately I spent my nights drinking red wine and staring outside one of my massive bay windows. Aiden's car would be parked outside and wouldn't leave until three or four in the morning. I knew he was with Ashley. Beyond that I knew he was _sleeping_ with Ashley, but it didn't seem to fit her M.O. to develop a relationship with him. I wasn't exactly certain how she was benefiting.

It had been a long weekend, and I gave myself the next couple of days off as a reward for not telling off a fifty-five year-old douchebag attorney who had decided he needed my services for both Saturday _and_ Sunday and insisted he could only get off by receiving blowjobs.

Oh, I'm sure.

"Taking a holiday?" Ashley joked as we sat on my bed late on Sunday.

"I need it. Trust me."

"Because of Stan?"

"That man is an asshole."

"I told you. Anyway, the lawyers are always the worst."

"Of course. But this guy is unusually bad, Ashley."

"I totally agree."

She had been more talkative this evening. That usually meant she was preparing herself to say something important or she had gone out for drinks with Kyla. Alcohol was the only sisterly bond they had.

"Either way, I'm not going to do anything for the next two days. I'm going to lounge around the house and order Chinese food and finally watch the movies I got from Netflix last week."

"Sounds perfect."

"You're welcome to join me," I say with a smile, literally praying she'll say yes.

"Ah, you see…while you take your little sabbatical, I'll be hard at work making up for your absence."

"Seriously?"

She nodded, "You're welcome."

"Oh sorry," I say, sitting up to look her straight in the eyes, "thank you so much for stealing all my clients while I watch 'Atonement' and walk around in my unattractive sweatpants."

"That's better."

"Well, if you find time in your busy schedule you should come watch movies with me."

"I'll see what I can do."

Our typical moment of comfortable silence passes between us and I smile—like always—to let her know I don't mind. Because I could just look at her face forever sometimes and this was definitely one of those times. Other times I just liked the feeling of knowing she was right in front of me, leaving her bodily imprint right there at the end of my bed as proof that she did like me. Because she stayed long enough to leave her history behind.

"Ashley?"

"Spencer…"

"What do you think of Aiden?"

I knew I was taking a risk, but I also knew that one day I'd have to know the answer. The curiosity would eat away at me if I didn't ask.

"I think he's an alright guy."

"Do you talk to him a lot?"

"Like, about work or in general?"

"Both, I guess. Either."

"I talk to him about work everyday because he lets me know when someone has asked to see me. But generally we don't really talk. We're in really different worlds."

"How so?"

"He might know the guys…set up the meetings, but he's still really separate from what goes on here. He's one of them in a way. He works with these people or he knows them from some bourgeois fucking Christmas gala or something, you know? That's not our world. He's not one of us…he's one of them."

"I guess you're right."

"But don't get me wrong. I think he's a good guy for the most part."

"Of course."

"Right."

We were silent again, though this time it wasn't as comfortable. She looked like she was deep in thought now. And I wondered if it was because she was considering letting me in on a secret she had no idea I was already privy to.

"When's the last time you went out on a real date?" I ask.

I must shock her with my sudden question because she jumps a little, as if she's been stung.

"A real date? Like a…like a romantic date?"

"Uh-huh, like a romantic date."

"Maybe a couple years ago. Wait…I'm twenty-six now and my last date was when…ok, yeah. Two years ago."

"Wow."

"I know."

"You need a date."

She laughs and shakes her head, "What do I need a date for?"

"Because sometimes what we do gets in the way of love. Don't you agree?"

"Love? What's that?" she asks with a smile.

"The kind of love I'm talking about?"

"Yeah."

"The feelings…the feelings that can exist between two people—romantically."

"I don't know if I even believe in that anymore."

I just look at her.

"Besides, I don't have time."

"Not having time for love is one of the worst things I've ever heard," I say, sounding high-pitched and slightly immature and hating every second of it.

"You don't understand, Spencer. The love I want right now…these feelings that exist between two people that you talk about? I want that. But I want it with my daughter. Not romantically."

"There's room for both I think."

"Not right now. Not for me. I mean, of course, you know? Of course I miss being held by someone who actually cares about me or having someone spend the night without leaving a check on my dresser. But I wouldn't even know where to start looking. Don't even get me started on trying to find someone who actually accepts what I do. Not even accept, really. Just someone who understands that I'm not just some…I don't know."

"No, no. I know what you mean."

"Maybe someone like Aiden would understand," I say, gently nudging her towards the truth despite my better judgment.

She looks at me strangely, "What are you talking about?"

"Well, he's a guy who knows what the business is like. And he's pretty attractive and…"

"Where the fuck is this coming from?" she asks, standing up.

"Whoa, calm down. I'm just saying…"

"I _am_ calm."

"I know you're sleeping with him," I blurt out, hopelessly.

God, I hope someone gets me self-control for Christmas this year.

"What?"

"I've seen him leaving your room…I've seen you kissing and…"

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"Fine," I say, holding my hands up innocently, "maybe I don't."

"No, you don't!"

"Ok!" I yell back. Because I know what I saw, and she could deny it all she wanted but she wasn't going to make me feel like I a crazy person.

"I can't believe I fell for this shit about wanting to be my friend."

"I do want to be your friend. This doesn't change that at all."

"Are you kidding me? Are you _fucking_ kidding me, Spencer?"

"What?"

"It changes everything. This changes everything," she says, and then just like that…

She's gone.

Again.

As usual.

------------------

I ignored her for days. I had to teach myself how to do it, but like I said. I'm good at everything I try more than once. And she ignored me as well. The Ashley-shaped imprint that used to live at the foot of my bed was gone.

I missed it.

But I wasn't going to be taken for granted either. Yes, I wanted Ashley. But I wasn't completely blinded by that desire. I was still of rational mind and that rationality enabled me to see that Ashley was out of my reach. Every time I felt as though we were getting somewhere, she slipped out of my hands.

I tried to talk to Kyla about it, but she wasn't exactly receptive when it came to the subject of her sister. I wanted answers on the state of their obviously deteriorating relationship as much as I wanted to know the deal with Ashley and Aiden.

"She's a bitch."

"So you've said."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Spencer. She's always been a bitch. She's a bitch now. She'll die…"

"A bitch?"

"Exactly. See? You're starting to get it."

"Ok, Kyla, I get that you don't like her but you never say why. Like, why is it that you feel this way?" I ask as I sit on her floor, staring up at her face.

Waiting.

"Ashley and I are only half-sisters."

"Really?"

"Yes. Our dad cheated on her mom with my mom. So as you can imagine, she's a little resentful."

"Right."

"And when her father moved me and my mom to L.A. so he could have a relationship with me, things just got worse. Because for whatever reason, he got this fucked up notion that it was important for Ashley and I to form some sort of sisterly bond."

"Well, that makes sense…right?"

"No, Spencer! It's insane!"

"Insane?"

"Don't you get it? We were destined to hate each other. You can't ever get past the stuff that separates me and Ashley. You just can't."

"Don't you wish you could, though?"

"No!" she exclaims, throwing herself back on her bed where I can no longer see her.

"Ok, ok! I get it," I reply, standing up, "so you're basically saying that you can't help me? Is that what I'm supposed to gather from all of this?"

"Yeah, that's right. I can't help you. To be honest, I don't even know what you hope to gain from being her friend. She'll just fuck you over, trust me. She's incapable of human compassion."

"What about her daughter?" I ask quietly.

"She told you about Maggie?"

I nod in response.

"I'm surprised. Anyway, I guess you're right. She really loves her daughter. Like, a lot."

"I could tell."

"That's the reason she's doing this, you know? To get her daughter back."

"She told me."

"Yeah, well…don't think she's going to tell you anything more than that. She's so fucking private, it's ridiculous."

"So, wait. I get why Ashley's here…why she does this job. But what about you? Why are you here?"

"I've been wanting to ask you the same thing," she says with a smile.

"You first."

"I'd like to say I have some noble purpose like my bitch of a sister, but I don't. The money's good. And I didn't go to college and I don't like working hard so…here I am, I guess."

She looks sad all of a sudden. I have the feeling that Kyla likes to constantly assert independence…nonchalance even, to cover up the fact that she's here to be closer to Ashley. No matter what she says, she wants her sister in her life.

"What about you Carlin? I told you, now it's your turn."

"Well, I actually went to college. And after graduation I went through this period of…pointlessness I guess. I don't know. I just couldn't figure out what I really wanted and then I…you're going to think I'm so stupid."

Kyla smiled in anticipation, "I won't. I swear."

"I watched this documentary on Heidi Fleiss and that was it. I had to try it."

"You became a prostitute because of a documentary?"

"I guess so. Yeah."

"Wow. You're right. You definitely went to college."

I laughed, "Shut up. I know."

"And what about now? Why are you here?"

"It's just second-nature now. People never ask doctors, 'hey, why the hell are you still a doctor?' It's my job. It's what I do."

"What is it that you see in my sister? Why do you care?" she asked, suddenly very serious.

"I don't know, Kyla. I really don't. I feel very drawn to her and I really want to be her friend. I'm sincere about that."

"I believe you."

"Good. I'm glad somebody does."

"You have to give her time…and you have to push her whether she likes it or not. 'Cause she's stubborn as hell, Spencer. She'll put up a fight. I know this from experience."

I consider asking Kyla what she knows about Ashley and Aiden, but I convince myself the timing isn't right. And besides, if I really need to hear it from someone, it isn't Kyla.

-----------------------------------

Ashley gets in late. Really late. And I hesitate to wonder why. But I see Eric drop her off and I wait a few minutes before going downstairs to talk to her. My conversation with Kyla convinces me that my pursuit is worth it. Maybe it's time—after all—to actually work for something I want. Stop taking the easy way out of everything.

I slip downstairs and walk the distance to her door as quietly as possible. It takes only one knock on my part before she swings the door wide open and I am suddenly flooded in light.

"What?"

"Can I please talk to you?"

"No."

"Ashley, please."

"Why do people always assume that adding that word will change someone's mind. I said no."

"I'm not above sleeping in this hallway all night."

I see her eyes light up just slightly, "Is that right?"

"That's right."

"Then you're an idiot."

"Fine, I'm an idiot. But only because I like you, not because I'm willing to prove it."

"Spencer…"

"No, you're going to hear me out. Maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow, and maybe not willingly. But I'm not giving up. I want this friendship."

"Get in here," she says after a moment. She pulls me in by the sleeve of my t-shirt, and even when I'm safe inside she doesn't let go. And I'm oh-so-aware of it. My breathing adjusts itself accordingly.

"Say what you need to say. Then I'm going to bed. It's late."

"The other night…I didn't mean to sound like I was accusing you of anything."

"Because that's exactly what you sounded like."

"I know. But it's not how I meant to sound. I just get really nervous around you and before I know it, I'm saying things that I don't really mean to say."

"Why would you be nervous around me?"

"Are you serious? Why _wouldn't_ I be? You're a little abrasive, Ashley."

"I'm going to bed."

"Stop, wait," I say, grabbing her sleeve this time, "and also because…"

This was it. My moment to tell her. I took a deep breath.

"Because?" Ashley asks, eyebrow quirked.

"I want to take you on a date."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

"I'm sorry, what?" she asks, a confused look on her face.

"I want to take you on a date."

"What are you talking about?"

"I like you, Ashley. I don't know what else to say. I just…you…I like you."

"So wait, were you lying about wanting to be my friend? The truth is you just want to fuck me like everyone else? Am I right?"

"I'm not going to lie to you and say that I'm not sexually attracted to you. But that's not where it ends. I want a relationship with you. I don't just want to know all these bits and pieces _about_ you. I want to know you. I really do. And I know that might be a lot for you to comprehend right now, but that's ok. I just need you to know. And if you hate me for liking you because you're so fucking convinced you can't trust anybody, fine. I'm no worse off then I was before I told you."

"You're so full of shit."

"Whatever, Ashley," I say, shaking my head in frustration. I had never met anyone more obsessed with thinking the world was out to get them than Ashley Davies. The more she shielded herself from me, the more hidden the person I was beginning to fall for became. Soon I wouldn't see her at all and she would have her all-important self-fulfilling prophecy.

I turned to walk out, when I felt weight pushing me hard against the wall. My head gently crashed into the flat surface and I could feel Ashley pushing against my back. She didn't say anything and neither did I. I wouldn't have known which words to use in a moment like this anyway. When Ashley's breath was on my neck, steady and hot. Her arms slowly snaked around my waist until her fingers locked together somewhere near my navel.

And she just held me. Our bodies meet in some strange, backwards hug that leaves us both completely satisfied and totally frustrated all at once as she gave into me. She finally just gives in, showing me physically what she couldn't yet show emotionally.

"Spencer…"

"Yeah?"

"I'll go. I'll go out with you…on a date."

"Really?"

"Really," she says, nodding. I can't see it, but I can feel it against my skin.

"Will I get lucky?"

"We'll talk about pricing later," she says with a laugh. I can feel that too, and it sends electricity everywhere.

Then she untangles her hands and uses them to push off against the wall, giving me room to turn around and face her. She's looking at me more intensely than I expected, having convinced myself that things were about to take a lighter, less angst-ridden turn.

"I need something from you," she says, quietly.

My heart stops in anticipation, "Of course."

"Promise me you won't hurt me."

It's the most vulnerable she's ever let herself be in front of me. She looks so scared that she has me scared too. It's all I can do not to hold her indefinitely.

"I can promise that."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

----------------

Ashley and I are very busy the next couple of days. We agree to go out on Friday, and by Friday morning I can hardly contain my excitement. I had spent the last two days ignoring the pangs of jealousy I would feel when her clients would ring the doorbell, and I could barely be civil to Aiden when he called. I had yet to mention him to Ashley again, scared to regress back to where we were a few days ago. But that didn't mean I wasn't still highly aware that something serious was going on between them. And that didn't mean I wouldn't eventually get to the bottom of it.

Ashley and I had regressed in other ways. We had become fourteen year-olds, smiling at each other over cups of orange juice at breakfast, talking in each other's rooms until the wee hours of the morning. But Ashley was still Ashley. She was hot one minute and cold the next. It just so happened that these days there were more hot minutes than cold.

"Hey," she says, snapping me out of my haze.

"Ashley…hi," I say with a grin. It's amazing how I can be so excited to see her when we life under the very same roof.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Stuff," I say coyly, watching her as she sits across from me at the kitchen table.

"Stuff? What kind of stuff?"

"Good stuff."

"Seriously?"

"Hey, I can be private too."

"What are you implying?" she asks, but her face shows no annoyance.

"You're withholding."

"I don't think so."

I slam my coffee mug down on the table, "You're kidding, right?"

She laughs, "No! What are you talking about?"

"You're withholding and you know it. I mean, it's fine, alright? But just admit it."

"I will admit no such thing."

"It's sexy," I say, blushing almost immediately.

"Are you blushing?" she asks, sweetly, covering my hand with hers.

"No," I lied.

"Yes, you are. It's not exactly something you see a lot in our profession."

"Are you saying you've never seen a blushing prostitute?"

"I can't say I have, Spence. I can't say I have."

"What can I say? I'm an original."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, what is it?"

"How did you know that…I mean, how could you tell that I was…"

"Ashley…"

"How did you know that I liked…girls?"

"You like girls?" I joked, taking a bite of my toast.

"Come on. I'm serious."

"Ok, so you were a little abrasive. But there was some part of you that still seemed slightly interested."

"Really?"

"You were too mean to me not to be interested."

She nods and smiles, and just like always, her smile slays me.

"I do. I do like you. But I have to be honest, Spence. I don't know long this can last."

"Ashley, we haven't even started anything."

"Oh, come on. You know that we have. And what I'm saying is that I can't promise anything."

"I know."

"I can't really do relationships like this, you know? This job doesn't really allow for that sort of thing."

"I know."

"And I like you. I want to get to know you better—whatever that means—but that's really all I can do."

"I know. Ashley…I know, ok? I get it."

"I don't want to disappoint you."

"Listen, I'm going into this with my eyes wide open. I'm not sure if you realize this, but you and I have the same job. I know how this works. And even if I didn't, you and I are just playing this thing by ear. Whatever happens, happens."

"Cool, so we're on the same page?"

"No."

"No?"

"I'm way ahead of you, Davies."

"You're cute," she says, reaching across the table to move a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Her touch leaves me breathless.

"Really, really cute," she repeats.

Kyla walks in and for some reason my stomach lurches as if Ashley and I are doing something wrong.

"Oh, Kyla…hey!" I say awkwardly.

"Um…hi," she says, ignoring us and peering into the fridge.

"Dad called, Ky," Ashley said, more casually than I had expected.

"What did he want?"

"Dinner on Sunday."

"Where?"

"Mom's."

"Wait, my mom or your mom?"

"My mom, obviously. Don't you think your mom would've called you?"

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying," Ashley said, shrugging.

"What do they want, anyway?"

"Who knows?"

"So," Kyla says, turning to me all of sudden, "are you guys fucking now, or what?"

"Whoa, no…no," I say, looking back and forth between the two sisters.

"Kyla, mind your own fucking business, ok? Fuck and eat. That's all you're good at," Ashley replied, picking up the morning paper.

"At least I'm not fucking the boss," Kyla said.

I watched as Ashley's body tensed before my very eyes. I was so busy watching her, I didn't notice when mine did the same. Realizing her mistake, Kyla stuttered on nervously.

"I mean…what I mean to say is that…"

"I think you've said enough," Ashley replied, body still rigid, "Spencer, it's not what you think."

"No, Ashley. It's _exactly_ what I think it is—what I've _known_ it was all along. You lied to me."

I stood up, my eyes still locked into hers. She looked conflicted and I knew she was deciding between apologizing and lying her way out of it again. Maybe she knew I wouldn't be as easy to quiet down this time around.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I tried to make you into a person you're obviously not. I'm sorry I wanted someone that simply doesn't exist."

I took off, walking out of the kitchen and practically sprinting up the stairs. I had to calm down before I met my 11:30. I figured it would be easy. All I had to do is remind myself that I had known this deep down all along. There was no element of surprise. Just an accidental confirmation from a spiteful sibling.

But I must say, I was surprised when a sad-looking Ashley pushed my door open without even a single knock.

"Talk to me," she said, walking in and taking her usual spot at the end of my bed.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"I'm sleeping with Aiden, yes. You're right. But you don't know why."

"For an orgasm, I'd assume."

"Please. He knows lawyers, Spence. Good ones. Lawyers that can help me with my case against my daughter's father."

"You're sleeping with him for legal representation. That's rich."

"It's the only thing I could think of to do."

"I'm sure he would've helped you without you showing him your pussy," I say with a smirk. She's not going to talk her way out of this one.

"No way. Aiden wants these guys to think of us as one-dimensional sex dolls. Not real people with real custody battles, ok? He doesn't mix business with the real world. But if I can make him fall for me, maybe…maybe he'll see me as more than that. Maybe he'll help me."

"So your plan was to sleep with people for money, sleep with Aiden to get hooked up with a good lawyer, and sleep with me for what? For fun? Because I'm obviously just some naïve idiot that you can lie to and feel completely validated in doing so, right?"

"I wasn't planning on you. I wasn't planning on someone who cared."

"Well, I did care."

"You care now. You're still talking to me."

"Get out."

"Look at me," she says, scooting forward to rest her hand on the side of my face. I hate to admit that it still gives me chills. "Spencer, please. I'm trying here. I'm not good at this stuff, so cut me some slack. I really want this date to happen."

I look at her, testing her sincerity through her eyes. She's unwavering in her stare, and her hand is still holding me in place. Though her fingers are moving now, caressing me in a way I'm sure she isn't aware of or she'd pull away.

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"Ok."

She smiles wide. The biggest I've seen from her yet and nods in excitement, "Good. Because I can't wait for tonight."

"I can't either," I answered honestly.

----------------------

The day went quickly after that. I had two appointments, both of which were with regulars. Regulars are ideal. You know what they want, they know what they want, you give it to them, they zip their pants. Money in the bank. It's the new ones that require the extra time and attention. They're so needy and every "I swear I've never done this before" speech is the same after a couple years. No, you've never done _this_ before, but I guarantee you'll do it again. I've never had a client that didn't come back for more.

The house was empty when I returned and I quickly ran upstairs to shower. But as soon as the slinky black dress I had been wearing pooled around my feet, my cell phone rang from inside the mess that was my purse and I ran to answer it.

"Hello," I said into the mouthpiece as I collapsed across my bread, out of breath from my haste.

"Spence, it's me."

"Glen?"

"Yeah, remember me? Your brother? We were raised in the same house…share some DNA…"

"I get it, I get it. This is a new number then, right?"

"I had to change my old one."

"Why?"

"Long story."

"Well, listen. I was about to jump in the shower. Can I call you back?"

"I promise. This will only take a second."

"What is it, Glen?"

"I'm going out of town for a couple days and I really need a sitter for Madeline."

"Why can't mom or dad do it?"

"Mom's working nights right now and Dad is totally swamped at his office."

"And what makes you think I'm available to babysit?" I ask, looking at my watch.

"I'm just asking Spencer. I'm not assuming anything."

"Glen, you know I'd love to do it. I haven't seen Madeline in months, but I'm pretty swamped at work myself."

"You know, it's moments like this that make me wish I wasn't a single parent. Alright, well I'll ask Clay. He and Chelsea might be free. I mean, they're pretty boring, right?"

"I'm so not answering that."

"Whatever. When am I going to see you?" he asked, sounding like he might actually miss his once annoying little sister.

"I'll try to make it to the house next week. But I can't promise anything."

"You're like, the busiest librarian ever."

"It's not easy work, Glen."

"So I'm learning. Well, you have fun with the card catalog and I'll see you soon."

"I'll try. Goodbye."

I hung up the phone, feeling strangely homesick for the first time in months. It's not that I didn't want to visit my family. I missed my house, my childhood room, all of the things that come together to create the person you eventually become embarrassed of. But the lies eventually got to me every time. I was used to lying to my mother. I had spent all of my young adulthood convincing her that I was this more noble, more pure, more honest version of myself. My father, however, was a different story. I could tell when he looked at me that he knew I was hiding something big. But what could I do? How do you tell the man that changed your diapers and helped you hang your Christmas stocking every year that you're now a highly successful, trick-turning prostitute? How do you do that?

It was for the best that I avoid home as much as possible. Even though I had missed my adopted brother—Clay's—wedding and the birth of my only niece. These are the things I regret. It doesn't matter how hard I try to convince myself these moments were just casualties in my quest for the top. I know the truth. But as long as they don't, I can validate everything else.

I took a long shower, then spent the next hour perfecting my look. Spraying perfume everywhere I wanted Ashley to kiss, making sure every hair was in place, seeing that the red dress I had spent a small fortune on accentuated everything as it should. But my conversation with Glen had left me on edge. I was a fumbling, guilty mess. The moments that made my job almost unbearable are the moments where I have to question my own personal set of morals. What would I say if my mother could see me? My niece?

There was a knock on my door right on time and I opened it to see Ashley standing in front of me, smiling and gorgeous.

"You look fucking incredible, Spencer," she said as I waved her in.

"Not as good as you, but I do what I can."

"No…better," she says, and my nerves immediately subside.

"Are you trying to butter me up?"

"I don't know…is it working?"

"Maybe."

"Then maybe I am," she says, here eyes still roaming over everything below my neck.

"I'm up here, by the way. In case you were wondering."

"No, I'm fine where I am, thank you," she laughs, "are you ready?"

"Absolutely."

"Where are we going anyway?"

"It's a surprise."

"I don't like surprises."

"You'll like this. I swear," I say, holding up my arms, "and if you don't then I'm not sure you're my type."

"So wait, is this a Cosmo compatibility quiz or a date?"

"Synonymous in my book."

"I'm not sure I want to read your book then."

--------------------------

Eric took directions wonderfully—a rare trait in men, not just a stereotype—and in no time we were at my location of choice.

Ashley had been quiet in the car, mostly looking out of the window. If I didn't know any better, I would've sworn she was scared. She really didn't like surprises. But I knew once she saw what I had in store, she'd laugh at her paranoia.

"Ash, we're here."

"This is like…a restaurant."

"It's your brilliance that attracts me most," I say with a smirk, "yeah, it's a restaurant."

"How is that a surprise?"

"You'll see."

We exited the car hand-in-hand and walked the long path that led to the building.

As soon as the doors opened and we entered the lobby, Ashley's jaw dropped.

"What the hell is this?"

"You can't tell me you've never been to the Medieval Manor. This was like my favorite place as a kid."

"My family wasn't exactly into this kind of stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Fun stuff."

"Oh, well you're here now. Let's go."

My grasp on her hand got tighter as we walked through the over-the-top décor and over to the host, who led us to the table I had reserved. It was right by the stage.

Ashley's eyebrow raised humorously as she looked through the leather-bound menu.

"How do you make medieval meatloaf anyway?" she asked.

"Duh, with medieval ingredients."

"Hmm…if they're using ingredients from anywhere close to the medieval period then I'm sticking to water."

I laughed, "You'll be missing out."

"And how I hate to miss out," Ashley said as her eyes followed the court jester dropping off a basket of feudal fries to our neighboring table.

"Oh, come on! Lighten up! This is fun."

"Is it?" she said, but a smile was playing at the corner of her lips.

"Yes! And you're with me. People would literally pay for this experience," I said with a wink.

"Feudal fucks and cunnilingus crusades are all the rage, I'm sure."

"Stop it! Are you really not having a good time? We can leave…just say the word."

"Oh, hey. Listen, I'm just giving you a hard time. I'm happy to be here with you."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

Things went well after that. Ashley loosened up and I could see that she was having a good time. That is, until the lights went dim and the show began. Her fork stopped mid-air as she watched several men in battle gear walk onstage.

"What is this, Spencer?"

"There's a show every hour," I whisper as the men start to mock-fight.

"Oh my God," she whispered back, but she watched with intrigue as a woman began to tell the history of the Middle Ages.

This was usually the time when I zoned out. I don't know, for some reason the history of the Great Famine doesn't quite grab my attention. But Ashley was totally into it like it was an episode of "Sex and the City."

There was still a lot I had to learn about this woman.

---------------------

After dinner, Eric picked us up and took us to our next destination.

"That was awesome," Ashley said, sliding across the black leather seat to make room for me.

"Really? You really liked it?"

"Fuck yeah, it was great. I mean, I can't wait to go back."

"You're a strange girl."

"Yeah…I know," Ashley says, grabbing my hand, "Spence?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know how this works, ok?"

"How what works?"

"I want…I want to kiss you."

"And you don't think I want you to?"

"It's not that. I'm just not used to being unsure. I mean, it's a sure thing everyday. And now I'm here with you and…"

I stopped her by bringing my hand to the side of her face, running my fingers over her defined cheekbones and full lips. Reveling in the way she felt under my fingertips. She responded by closing her eyes and putting her own hand over mine. And when her eyes finally opened, I knew she was ready. The second I felt her lips on mine, I knew I'd never get enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

Her lips were incredible. Soft and inviting and something else that reminded me in the heated moment that yeah, I was kissing Ashley Davies. How something could feel so wrong and so positively right in the very same second confused me to no end. And Ashley wasn't helping, because every time she would run her tongue along my bottom lip, rational thought became utterly impossible. I wanted her to stop so I could think and at the same time, I never wanted her to stop so I would never have to think about why this was happening. Yet another confusing contradiction.

But then she did just as I wanted—and yet didn't want—and pulled away. She was breathing heavily, her exposed shoulders rising and falling with each deep inhale and exhale. Her eyes were wide and she used them to stare directly into mine. If it was answers she was after, she was looking in the wrong place.

"Spence…"

"Ash…"

I couldn't think of anything else. Her name was a tattoo at the tip of my tongue. Just the thought of her permanence on my body sent a shiver right down where it counted the most.

"What's the next part of this date?" she asked, finally. As if there was nothing we could do but move onto something more solid. And I agreed.

"Bowling," I muttered pathetically.

I swear if it wasn't for what had just occurred, the magnificence that is bowling wouldn't have seemed so underwhelming.

"Bowling?"

"Are you surprised?"

"I don't really…ok, I'll put it this way. I can't really picture you in bowling shoes—especially in that dress."

"It's hot. You'll see."

"I'm sure it is," she said, giving me a look that lacked any kind of eye contact.

"Plus, it's fun, I said, taking the lighter approach, "I used to go all the time in high school."

"I wasn't much of a social elephant in high school."

"What the hell is a social elephant?"

"Isn't that what they call them? Social elephant?"

"I'm sorry. Do you mean 'social butterfly?' Because if that's what you're talking about, but instead you just used the term 'social elephant' then I'm making fun of you forever. So please, please, please tell me that's what you meant."

"Fuck you," she said with a grin, "anyway, my point was just…I was a loner when I was younger."

"Because you said things like 'social elephant?'"

"You were serious about never letting that go."

"Can you blame me? I mean, come on."

"Fine," she said, throwing up her hands in defeat.

"Ok, so you were a loner back in the day. Tell me, Davies, how do you go from loner to sex worker?"

Ashley sighed, as if she'd told the story millions of times, "It just happened."

Not exactly a story.

"It doesn't just happen."

"Sometimes it does."

"Yeah, but not to someone like you."

"You don't really know me, Spencer. At least not yet."

"That's what I'm trying to do, so tell me your story or else."

"Or else?" she asked, smirked, "or else what?"

The limo stopped suddenly, and I looked out the window to see the off-white building and neon lights that signified we had arrived.

"Later," I said, opening the door and reaching for her hand.

"No, I want to know now."

Her hand tightened around mine.

"Or else…I'll kick your ass mercilessly in bowling. How's that?"

---------------------------

Two hours later I sat exhausted in one of the hard, plastic swivel chairs that accompanied our lane, watching as Ashley bowled yet another strike.

She walked towards me, a ridiculously smug expression on her face.

"So this is you kicking my ass?"

"Whatever, I'm plotting a come-back, ok?"

"I've never been so terrified."

"Oh, shut up. I love how you conveniently forgot to mention in the limo that you were on your high school bowling team. No wonder you were a fucking loner."

"Hey! We were totally badass…won state three years in a row, actually."

"Wow, I wish that mattered in the long-run," I said, bitterly.

I absolutely abhor losing.

"Doesn't it? Because so far it's come in handy for shutting up an arrogant little blonde who's all talk."

"You ask David and Maureen Pierce if I'm all talk."

She loses her smile, and for a quick second I think I've taken our playful banter a step too far. But her smile returns a moment later as she walks over to where I'm sitting and leans down to whisper in my ear.

"I plan on finding out myself very, very soon," she says. Then she plants a short kiss on my lips before sitting in the chair across from me.

I'm quite close to being speechless.

"In that case, I'll make sure I tell Eric to stop by an ATM on the way home."

Like I said, I was _quite close_ to being speechless. But I wish that I had been rendered mute, because this time I had definitely gone a step too far. And as I watched Ashley's face transform, I realized I didn't like what "too far" looked like.

"So that's it? I'm just a whore to you?"

"Ashley, I don't even know why I…"

"I know why. Because you're right."

"No, I mean…I know as much as you do what it feels like to treated like someone's sex puppet, ok? I can't believe I would say something like that to you."

"I thought you liked me. Like, as a person."

"I do."

"Then why?"

"I really hate losing," I said, hating how immature the words sounded as they stumbled like reluctant children from my mouth.

She shook her head, looking down Lane 6 for her next words.

"I hate losing too. That's why I need to be really careful with you, Spencer."

"It'll never happen again. I swear."

"You're right," she said, and before I could ask her exactly what that meant, she had reached for her phone.

I knew she was calling Eric, and I knew this was a bad sign. I was so tired of us being over at the slightest misunderstanding.

"Ash…"

She held up her hand to silence me as she asked Eric to pick us up out front. She nodded a lot—rather pointlessly—and hung up. I watched her as she returned her shoes and walked quickly outside.

Strikes were supposed to be good in bowling, so why had this taken such a dramatic turn in such a short amount of time? I followed behind her, finding her outside leaning against the side of the building. She was bathed in neon light and I could tell from a few feet away that she was crying.

"Ashley," I said as I approached her, hoping she wouldn't pull away, "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"Do people ever actually intend to make other people cry, Spencer?"

"I don't know."

"Well…great," she replied, wiping her face.

"I'm nervous when I'm around you. And when I'm nervous I say really, really stupid things…things that I don't mean. I'm so sorry if what I said hurt you."

"It only hurts because it's true. I am what I am."

"You're more than the job you do, Ashley. Your job doesn't define you."

"No, but it shows how low I'm willing to stoop for money."

"It shows what you're willing to do for your daughter."

"I grew up thinking that nobody cared, you know? My parents were never around. At the time I thought I was an only child…but even when I found out about Kyla, I felt betrayed—not relieved. So when I moved out and there was nowhere to go, I did what I felt I had to do. And I convinced myself that I was completely validated in doing it. I was completely fucking amazed to find out that there were guys willing to lose everything for just one night with me. It made me feel…wanted. But then the novelty wore off and I hardened myself to the job. I guess to _everyone_. I realized that I couldn't do it for much longer. It was turning me into a person I didn't recognize. Now all I want is custody of my daughter. I want enough money to take her far, far away and give her all the love I never got."

I only nodded, sensing she wanted to continue.

"And now there's you…"

"What about me?" I ask, trying to hide a smile.

"You've just made everything a little more complicated. That's all."

"Complicated how?"

She glances up at the neon sign, as if she's considering putting it all out on the line. But instead she holds out a little while longer. She's still making me work for it.

"I'll tell you later," she says, and I sigh as Eric pulls up.

------------------------------

Ashley and I were fine after that. She opened up—slowly, and I learned how to you know, stop mentioning the fact that we're hookers—slowly. And we had our moments late at night in my room where the talking was everything. All that mattered was listening to how she felt and where she'd been and what was she thinking. I could listen for hours, and most times I did. Things were slow with us. Over-compensation, maybe. I guess we both wanted to make sure that this wasn't just a sex thing. Work was just a sex thing, and she and I were better than that. We were a good thing.

My relationship with Kyla became strained. I think she was mostly jealous that there was someone besides herself that Ashley was willing to let in. So she stopped talking to me unless it was absolutely necessary. I'd like to say that I was bothered by it, but I had a favorite sister and it wasn't her. I was used to women ignoring me—especially if their husbands were paying customers.

On this day in particular, though, I had a lot of work to do. I had an appointment with a new guy. Some accountant/lawyer/doctor/broker/money clown. They're all the same and they all want the same things. People's fetishes that they hide for so long, that they think are so unique and dangerous are pathetic. The idea of thinking that you've invented your own sort of sexual idea or fantasy is just that. A fantasy. A fantasy inside of a fantasy that we all require to have orgasms. Maybe some of us don't. How would I know?

I met the guy at a coffee shop a few blocks away. I knew who he was as soon as I walked in. I recognized the hair and that old grey suit and I stopped short at the door. I didn't know whether I should confront him or leave. But before I could reach a decision of my own, he turned around and I was left without a choice.

"Dad!" I said, forcing my legs to walk towards his table.

"Spence? Wow, I almost didn't recognize you!"

"Yeah, well…" I mumbled, praying that this wasn't what I thought it was. Our signal was supposed to be a red rose somewhere on the table, and as my dad stood up to hug me I saw it.

"It's so weird to run into you here," he said as we both sat down. I could see now that he was starting to get nervous. His eyes traveled back and forth between me and the door hoping he could avoid an awkward moment between himself, his daughter, and his prostitute for the afternoon. Completely oblivious to the fact that we were one in the same.

"Yeah, Dad. It's really weird. I didn't know you usually came out to these parts."

"I don't. I don't really. I just thought…you know, I'd try something different."

"Different?"

"Yeah…different."

"I thought you had a cappuccino machine at home."

"I do, but sometimes I miss going out. Plus that machine has been giving me a lot of trouble lately."

"So you had to come all the way out here, huh? That's too bad."

"Well what about you?" he asks, obviously sensing the symbolism, "mom and I don't have an address for you. You live close?"

"I do, actually. A few blocks away."

"Really? They're some pretty big houses out here. Kind of ritzy, don't you think?"

"I guess."

"How are you affording it?"

"I work a lot."

"At the library?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"And they pay you enough to live out here?" he asks with a smirk.

"I do some side jobs…" I say, standing up quickly, "I really need to go, though, so…I guess I'll see you later."

"You didn't get any coffee."

"I just remembered I have something to do."

I walked away, anxious to go home and…I don't know, shower or something.

"Spence," my dad called from behind me, his voice suddenly sad.

"Yeah, Dad."

"You should come visit soon. We'd really like to have you at the house more often. We all miss you. So if you can get away from the library, come on by."

"Sure."

"And I love you, Spencer. No matter what."

"I know. I love you too."

And then I walked out, and back into the life I had chosen.

----------------------------

I told Ashley about my father that night as she sat I her spot on my bed. These days there was more touching of course and the occasional make-out session in the wee hours of the morning, but still nothing that would make an eight-grade boy blush. Like I said, we were taking it slow and I liked it—for now.

"So he had the rose? You're sure?" Ashley asked as she gave me a foot massage. It was our latest version of foreplay. Only, it never led to anything which just might cancel the word out entirely.

"Yeah, I saw it. It was right on the table, Ash."

"Wow, that's insane."

"I know."

"And awkward."

"Yeah…I know."

"So what's the deal? I thought your family was pretty solid. Why does your dad need to look elsewhere for…"

"Who knows what really goes on, you know? There was the side they showed us as kids and then there was the reality of it all. Who's to say that this is the first time?"

"Do you think he still loves her?"

"I think in some way he does. It's not like he's having an affair with a woman or like, spending real time with someone. He's looking for a hooker. It's just a sex thing."

"Or is it? How do you know it's not a companionship thing?"

"I don't," I say, releasing a heavy sigh.

"You want to be alone?" Ashley asks, placing my feet back on the bed.

"No, actually I…I was wondering if you'd stay tonight."

"Really?"

"We don't have to do anything. I just really want some…"

"Companionship?"

"Exactly," I said with a smile.

"I think I can do that."

"Good. So come here," I said, scooting over to make room for her on the bed.

She slid that perfect, warm body behind mine and I'm telling you it took everything in me not to turn around and make her forget all about taking it slow. I knew it was only going to get worse as I hit the lamp next to my bed and the room was immediately bathed in a coat of darkness. I became more and more aware of what she felt like behind me. I could feel every warm breath as it hit my neck.

"Ashley?"

"Yeah, Spencer?"

"Are you ok with this?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you?"

"Yeah, I guess."

We were silent again. Her right arm was snaked around my waist, her hand resting just above the band of my boy shorts. I wondered if it was obvious to her. I was sure she could feel the heat emanating from my center.

"Spencer?"

"Yeah?" I replied, unable to make my voice go above a whisper.

"I don't really want to wait anymore. Like, I don't know what we're waiting for."

"You wanna do it right now?" I asked quickly.

Ashley laughed, sensing my excitement, "I think maybe you should let me cook for you tomorrow. Then you'll be so charmed by my impeccable gourmet cooking that your clothes will practically fly off."

"Wow, you think? They'll just fly right off, huh? Just like that?"

"Yup," she said, wearing a smile I could see even in the limited light, "just like that."

"I'd be interested to see that happen."

"Good. It's a date then."

"The second one, yeah."

"Are you counting them now?"

"Totally counting them," I said, my grin matching hers.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to go to my room because I don't think this is working out too well."

"What makes you say that?"

"My underwear is sticking to me."

"Gotcha," I said, swallowing a moan.

I couldn't wait until tomorrow night.


	7. Chapter 7

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**CHAPTER 7:**

"Wait, wait, wait…you're telling me that you've fucked my dad?"

Madison shrugged and continued to butter her bagel, "Yeah…so?"

"So? _So_? Are you kidding me?"

"I already told you I wasn't kidding, girl. You need to calm down."

"I mean, I know this isn't your fault or anything, but still…_fuck_!"

"Like I said, Spencer. You need to calm down and face the facts. Our job takes people away from their families. It's just the way it is. Now this time it happened to affect you personally, and that sucks. But still, it's nothing to freak out over. It'll probably happen again."

"Madison, no…"

"Look, Mr. Carlin is a real good tipper and he doesn't require a lot of work. I can't promise you if he calls I won't see the dude again. It's just business."

I shook my head. I was in complete and absolute shock. I was shocked at this sudden confirmation that my father had in fact, done this before and I was shocked at how casual Madison could be about this whole fiasco. This was my _father_ we were talking about. Not just some client.

"What do you mean he's not a lot of work?" I ask, forcing the question out. Terrified at how detailed the answer might be.

"I only had to fuck him the first time. These days we just talk mostly. Sometimes we go places."

"Like, what kind of places?"

"I don't know. Sometimes we go out to lunch or a movie."

"My dad doesn't have the money for this."

"Apparently he does. Or maybe he worked out some kind of deal with Aiden. Who knows? As long as I get paid, it doesn't really matter where the shit comes from."

I collapsed onto a bar stool, literally unable to stand it anymore. Hearing that my father had a secret life was bad enough. Hearing that it involved Madison was earth-shattering. And there was no way I could tell my mom because there was no way I could explain how I got the information. I was trapped in this secret with him. Or maybe he was trapped in mine.

"You ok, girl?"

"No."

"Look, if it really bothers you this much…I guess I can stop taking the dude's calls. I mean, I can make an exception since it's your dad and all."

"You'd really do that?"

Madison nodded, then took a huge bite from her bagel.

"You can have Ellis Scott," I said reluctantly.

"You fucking kidding me? Spencer, he's one of your best clients, right?"

"Yeah."

I could take a week off every time I met with this guy because he paid so much money.

"That's the dude with the tomato fetish, huh?" she asked with a smile. She was getting excited now.

"Yeah, you just throw them—hard. That's all. He squeals like a third-grade girl watching 'High School Musical.'"

"How much?"

"Fifteen."

"Fifteen-hundred?"

I sighed. Saying it aloud made me realize what I was giving up, "Fifteen-thousand. But it's only like, once every seven or eight weeks."

"You'll tell him about me?"

"Of course."

"Then we have ourselves a deal, Carlin."

She shook my hand and took her bagel into the media room—most likely to watch a DVR full of saved episodes of "Heroes." Not my favorite, but an unpredictable and thus respectable choice.

And me…what would I do now? I had all of this unwanted knowledge and no more clients lined up for the day. I handled an early-riser this morning around five for a nice five-thousand. He had a plane to catch and luckily I was awake due to the imprints Ashley had left on my body. It was a win/win. But other than that, my schedule was clear. As if on cue, Ashley walked into the kitchen. About five centimeters of shiny material I'm sure she referred to as shorts did their best to cover the gorgeous bronze legs that carried her in, but all they did was send a familiar wave of want right through my core.

"Hi," she said softly, kissing the top of my head. It was a little too friendly for what I was experiencing at the moment, but appreciated nonetheless.

"Hey."

"Are you ok this morning? You know, after last night?"

"Which part? The part where I found out my dad was scoring with hookers or the part where you left the very distinct scent of honeysuckle and brown sugar right there on my sheets, leaving me a complete insomniac? Which one?"

She smiled, "Trust me, if I wouldn't have gotten out of there I would have left a lot more than that."

"Is that supposed to comfort me? Because it's not working. Like, 'oh, if I wouldn't have abandoned you last night we would've had mad, passionate sex.' Yeah, lucky me."

"Hey," she said, grabbing the back of my neck and bringing me in closer to her face, "we want it to be special, right? Not just another fuck fest. So apologize."

"No way."

"Am I going to have to threaten you, Spencer?"

It would hardly be an intimidating threat with a smile as wide as the one she was wearing.

"I wish you would."

But no sooner had the words left my mouth did I see a confused version of Aiden standing in the archway.

Ashley jumped back a million feet, hitting the stool behind her hard.

"Aiden!" she squeaked, "we didn't know you were…"

"Dropping by?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yeah…dropping by," I said, sensing that Ashley needed some help with this conversation.

"Yeah, well I was in the neighborhood and I thought I'd say hello. I haven't done that as much as I'd like to lately," he replied, staring at Ashley. But her eyes were glued to the granite countertop.

He continued, "I see you two have gotten more acquainted since Spencer's first day here."

You could say that.

"We're friends now," I answered.

I could see Ashley's surprise wash over her face. She had expected me to out us but I knew better. I didn't make it this far in the business without knowing how to keep a secret.

"Good. I always thought Ashley could use more of those."

There was an awkward silence that followed. I knew Aiden expected to find Ashley alone in her room so they could do…whatever it is that they do. But she was here with me and she wasn't budging.

"Well, do either of you need to go somewhere and talk or…anything?" he asked a little desperately.

Ashley and I looked at each other innocently before replying with a mutual, "No."

Aiden looked like he had been punched in the face by my little friend, surprise. He didn't even say anything, simply turned and walked right out the front door.

"I've managed to stop sleeping with him since you and I…you know," Ashley said, standing up to pour herself a cup of coffee.

"He seems to be taking it well," I said with a grin.

"I know, right? He's so confused as to why I'm always seeing a client or sick or on my period whenever he calls."

"Confusion is better than realization."

"Exactly."

"So we're still on for tonight? Like, I can plan on not ordering takeout?"

"You are most definitely not eating takeout Spencer Carlin."

There were many ways to take that, so I just took it in the way that was most appealing.

"And then my clothes are supposed to fly off due to your hopefully impressive culinary masterpiece and then we commence to having sex. Correct me if I'm wrong."

"That is the plan, yes."

"Are you looking forward to the plan?"

"Are you drilling me?"

"I wouldn't call it that."

"What would you call it then?" she asked, sitting across from me again.

"Necessary inquiry."

"Ah…I see."

"So answer the question."

She turned to me, looking me directly in my eyes, "I can't possibly explain how much I'm looking forward to tonight. I really can't."

"Seriously?" I questioned, wondering why I was always so insecure in her presence.

"You know I am. But I have a client coming over in an hour so I better go get ready."

"He's coming here?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm going jogging because for some reason I don't want to be here for that."

"I can't imagine why," she replied with a smile.

But her smile was sad. This was the consequence of being who we were. This was the reality we'd have to learn to cope with. And after tonight, it would only get worse.

-----------------

The anticipation of our last date was almost unbearable. But as I wheeled my cart around the grocery store aimlessly, simply trying to work through the Ashley-induced nerves, I prayed for the equivalent of that anxiety. I was drowning in it this time.

The grocery shopping was supposed to get me out of the house after my jog—because yes, Ashley apparently took her time with clients. And no, I didn't want to stick around for the pre-show. But so far my cart only contained a box of tampons and a bag of oranges. Not exactly sustainable.

The truth was, I was nervous. I was nervous about sleeping with Ashley, which absolutely floored me. I wondered if I still had it in me to touch someone I actually cared about. It had been so long since I had let that happen, ad the idea of being open to my actual moments once again intimidated me beyond belief.

By the time I arrived back at the house, I had managed to freak myself out completely. I thought a little TV might help, so I threw my one grocery bag on the kitchen counter and headed towards the media room. But I was stopped short by Ashley's arms wrapping themselves around my waist from behind. I was instantly reminded of the torture that was last night.

"I missed you," she said, resting her chin on my shoulder.

"I missed you too."

"I thought maybe I'd start cooking early. I'm free for the day."

"How was your…appointment?" I asked, that fucking wave of insecurity coming back to haunt me.

"Spencer, come on…" she said, turning me around so that we were facing each other, "it's a job. And you know I spent all day thinking about being with you tonight."

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I get so…"

"It's ok. But you have to know that you're the one I want—the only one I want."

"When did you get so sweet?"

"What do you mean? I've always been sweet!" she says, feigning innocence.

"Oh, please. You had put up more walls than a construction worker, ok?"

She laughed, shaking her head, "I disagree. I was polite from the second I met you."

"I'm just going to ignore you now. This is ridiculous."

"Come cook with me," she says, pulling me back towards her.

"That wasn't part of the deal."

"Fine, come keep me company then."

And so I followed her into the kitchen, ready for the foreplay to begin.

----------------------------

If Ashley was this good at everything she did, I could see why she was the best in the business. She had whipped up a four-course meal with all the trimmings, making it seem embarrassingly effortless. I watched her every move as she zipped across the kitchen from the sink to the stove to the oven and occasionally over to where I sat at the counter to kiss me softly on the lips or neck. She was quite the multi-tasker. And when she finally sat me down at the table, using her talented fingers to tie the unnecessary cloth napkin around my neck in an adorable, dramatic fashion, I got to sample the fruit of her labor.

"Ashley, this is…"

I was at a loss. And I was only at the salad course.

"Speechless?"

I nodded, still chewing.

"Good," she said with a proud smile, "that's how I prefer you."

We practically ate in silence after that. I couldn't help it. I've always been serious about my food, and this was definitely a dinner to be taken very, very seriously. Each course was executed with such trained precision I forgot that I was at home instead of out at some over-priced establishment. I must say that the waitstaff was much better in the comfort of my own abode as well. But it didn't make sense. How could Ashley be this overwhelmingly talented and have her career be so irrelevant to her true calling?

"Ash, let me ask you something," I say softly as she clears dishes from the table.

She batted my hand away when I tried to help.

"Go for it."

"Why aren't you doing this? I mean, why aren't you some big-time chef somewhere or something?"

"Chef?" she asks, as if it's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard.

"Yeah, you heard me. You're incredible. You should be doing something with all the skill you have."

"Well, some dreams have to be deferred after you have a child. Your responsibilities become more important than your hobbies. Besides, who said I'm not making use of my skills now?" she says with a wink, but I know it's insincere. I've hit a nerve.

"Fine, but promise me that if I come looking for you in five years you'll be in the kitchen at your own restaurant…not here…doing this."

"Where will you be?"

"I'm not sure yet. But it won't in this business. Definitely not in this house."

"Fair enough," she says after a moment.

"So…what's next?"

"I have something for you."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she says, and though she tries to turn away quickly, I can tell that she's blushing.

"Is it a surprise?"

"Uh-huh."

"Will I like it?"

"I hope so. Let's see," she says, pulling me out of the kitchen and down the hall.

The anticipation of everything is completely unreal. It's almost as if I'm living out the night, compiling memories of every second so I don't forget what happens. Most of all, I don't want to remember anything else when I'm with her. Everything should be new and ours, because to be honest, I'm not sure how long I can have her.

She eventually stops when we reach the guest bedroom. Well, at least that's what it is for now. I have a feeling that it's simply waiting for a new girl to sinfully inhabit and give the stark walls something to talk about.

"Are you going to turn on the light?" I ask, noticing that we've been standing in the dark for several seconds now.

"Promise me something."

"What is it?"

"Promise me you won't laugh."

I started to laugh just on principle, but she looked too nervous for me to be so reckless.

"I promise."

"Because I'm not very good at this."

"That's not what I've heard."

She smiles a little, nodding knowingly, "Very funny. I mean I'm not good at this romantic shit, you know? It's been a really long time and I don't know if…"

I cut her off with a kiss, long and slow, feeling every part of it. Hoping she could too.

"Ashley, turn on the light."

As soon as my eyes adjust, my jaw drops. She's covered the bed with fresh gardenia petals and there are candles everywhere just waiting to be lit. As well as a bottle of wine with two elegant flutes beside it.

"You did all this for me?" I ask, still finding it a bit hard to speak.

"Is it ok? I mean, is it too much?"

I look at her directly, "Ash, it's perfect. Look at me…it's absolutely perfect. Come here."

I assault her mouth this time and there's nothing slow about it. Our lips meet over and over and over. My tongue paints wet fire all the way across her jawline and down her neck. Her hands are everywhere. Five seconds they're in my hair. Three seconds they're resting on the small of my back. For far too few seconds they're inching the fabric of my shirt up around my lower torso, until she suddenly pulls away and a desperate moan passes from my sensitive lips.

"Spence…"

"Uh-huh," I manage, still breathing heavily, "yeah?"

"Can we slow down a little bit, maybe?"

Um…yes?

"Absolutely."

"Good," she says, walking towards the bed, "because you have to try this wine."

And that familiar crawl of insecurity made its way through my body all over again. I watch her as she skillfully pops the cork and pours the bottle's contents into the identical flutes.

"Something's wrong," I say plainly. I had gone through many words and even sentences in my head, but for whatever reason those are the ones that hit the air.

"Something's wrong?"

She looked concerned.

"You're like…stalling or something."

"No."

"Yeah you are."

"Spencer…"

"And it's totally fine if you don't want to do this. I don't want to pressure you into something you don't want."

"No one pressures me into doing anything I don't want to do, ok?"

I nod, though I'm not quite sure how true that statement is.

"Spence, I just want to see you, you know? I want to take my time. We have all night, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

She sits down on the bed, gesturing for me to sit beside her and I do.

"Will you look at me please?"

I turn my head so that I'm facing her.

"I want this," she says, grabbing my hand and sliding in beneath her shirt. Everything stops momentarily and all I can concentrate on is the sensation of moving over hot skin and soft lace. She finally brings my hand to rest on her heart.

"You feel that, right?"

Her heart was beating hard and quick against my palm, and I swallowed back the last bit of fear that had been inhibiting me. I nod in response.

"Well then trust it," she says. And then her mouth is on mine again. Her tongue is convincing me of her sincerity as it chases mine over and over. Her lips are the definition of soft and the sensation of her teeth biting my lower lip sends a pool of want right where I need her most.

"I do," I say, pulling her loose-fitting top up and over her head, "I trust it."


	8. Chapter 8

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_**Chapter 8**  
_

I could feel her, but seeing her had become a challenge. I felt her everywhere, wanted her everywhere. Nothing was hard enough. Nothing lasted long enough. And she knew it. I had been stripped of everything but my underwear and Ashley's mouth had reminded me of this again and again as she kissed just above the band of my panties and right under the swell of my breasts. She showed me how exposed I was. She made sure the trust I had bestowed in her remained evident through every bodily touch.

Eventually she straddled me as I lay flat and still on the bed, waiting for her to show me mercy and praying that she didn't in the very same moment. Her fingers started at the curve of my neck and crawled down between my breasts and all the way to my belly button. Her movements were full of intention, and her fingers pressed so softly against my skin that it was possible I had imagined the entire thing. I closed my eyes so that her intense gaze didn't make me want her inside me just that much more. I knew she had been waiting to touch someone and mean it for a very long time. Who was I to rob her of that opportunity? Who was I to rob myself?

I was mostly human after all. And despite all of my inner pleading, the human part of me needed more. I arched into her touch, seeking something…anything, to alleviate the steady ache between my legs.

"Spencer…" she whispered, kissing me softly at the corners of my mouth.

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"I'm trying not to rush you…rush this. But I can't help it."

"It's ok."

"I wish I could make you understand how bad I want you right now."

"I might have an idea," she says with a smile as she suddenly runs a finger over my fabric-covered center.

"You're not playing fair," I reply between heavy breaths.

"Maybe I'm not aware of the rules."

Her hands move from my waist as she reaches down to remove the last barrier between us. I can tell that I've never been wet like this before. Every time I looked at her, thought about what was about to happen, felt her mouth or hands on my body, or simply breathed, I could feel my center flood just a little bit more.

"You're so beautiful, Spencer. Has anyone ever told you that?"

I answered honestly, "Paying customers are usually pleased with what they're getting."

"I'm sure. But has anyone told you why?"

I shook my head.

"You have the most incredibly clear blue eyes I've ever seen. Every time you look at me I feel like I'm being seen for the first time," she says softly, lowering herself to kiss my eyelids before continuing. "And your skin is so soft I could literally touch it forever and never get enough."

"Is this what you do?" I ask, intertwining my fingers on the small of her back, "you give people an ego boost before you sleep with them?"

She ignored me, "Your lips are perfect."

She kisses me again, only this time it's all about tongue and she claims mine with hers until the moan I had been suppressing slips out.

"I need to feel you, Ashley. I'm serious. I don't know how much longer I can do this."

She grins at me, "You have somewhere else to be?"

That did it.

"As a matter of fact," I said, sitting up until we were face to face with her in my lap, "I do."

I used the element of surprise and slight bodily advantage I had over her and flipped our positions. She laid under me eyes wide and breathing heavily. But she didn't protest.

"New rules," I say, quickly relieving her of her panties and wasting no additional time before sliding two fingers into her wet heat. She released a guttural moan that only made me want her more. I wanted to make her come more than anything.

"How does it feel to have me inside you, Ashley?"

My fingers worked slowly, allowing her the chance to respond, "Different."

My fingers worked faster, "Different how?"

It took her several seconds but she managed to get the words out, "I know you're doing this for me. You want me to enjoy it too…it's not all about you."

"And are you? Are you enjoying it?"

I leaned down to run my tongue slow and hard over her clit.

"Fuck," she screamed, grabbing my hair wildly.

I didn't need to say anything else. She was shaking. Her thighs were wrapped around me and every time I inched deeper inside, I could feel the tiny tremors.

"Are you enjoying it?" I asked again before delivering another slow lick to her clit.

I was expecting something more elaborate, but she responded with a simple, "Yes."

"Good, then tell me what you want."

She pulls me up by my hair until we're face to face. She kisses me softly before speaking again, "I'm not a job."

I can feel my face turning red with embarrassment. She was right. I was in "job-mode."

"I'm so sorry."

"You know, I don't think normal people apologize this much during sex," she says, laughing.

"I think you might be right about that."

"Spencer?"

"Yeah?"

"Having you inside me right now…that's what I want."

I nodded, my fingers resuming their movements. This wasn't just about making her come at all. This was about closeness and trust. Being face to face with her reminded me of that. Watching her eyes close with every thrust and hearing her whimper as she held me tight reminded me that she was allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of me in a way she wasn't exactly used to.

I buried my face in her neck, my fingers thrusting faster and faster. My thumb rubbing circles over her clit. I was so lost in the way she felt and the noises she was making that I didn't even realize she had snaked her arm down—that is, until I felt her fingers inside me. She knew she was close, and she knew I was close just from watching her get closer.

"I want to come with you, Spencer. I want this to be about us."

"I'm almost..."

"I know."

And just then I felt her contract around my fingers and her free hand scratched my back so hard that I couldn't take it anymore. She screamed my name, making it sound better than it ever had before and she was so tight around my fingers it was impossible to move. So instead I just circled her clit as her thrusts inside me became more desperate.

I couldn't breathe as I came. It felt like nothing I had ever experienced before and the only thing I wanted to experience again. She continued stroking in and out, more precisely now that her own orgasm had subsided, and it made mine last for an eternity.

We were quiet for a very long time after my body stopped shaking and the waves of pleasure subsided, leaving me feeling absolutely euphoric.

"Ashley…"

"Spencer…"

"I'm glad this didn't happen the first night I was here."

She bursts into a fit of laughter, "Oh my God. I had forgotten about that. Wow."

"I hadn't. What was that all about anyway?"

"What can I say? I was intimidated by you. And maybe I thought you were kind of hot."

"I asked Madison, you know. If you had slept with her."

"Never happened."

"I know, she told me."

"Well I'm sorry I lied to you."

"Hey, I'm over it."

"So…"

"So…?"

"I have a lot of stamina."

"What?"

"It's part of what makes me so successful in this business. I mean, I'm ready to go again almost as soon as I stop."

"Um…ok."

"Like almost every time."

"Ashley?"

"Yeah," she says, turning to me innocently.

"Is this your way of telling me you're ready for more?"

"Uh-huh. Maybe."

"Which one is it? The 'uh-huh' or the 'maybe?'"

"It's the 'uh-huh.'"

"Then come here."

--------------------------------------

We stayed in bed for ions, or so it seemed. We talked about everything. I even got her to open up about her daughter.

"She's the love of my life, Spence."

"So who is this fucking lunatic that would keep you away from her?"

"My ex, Glen."

Glen?

"What's he like?" I asked, suddenly nervous.

"He's a prick. And a lawyer, of course."

Wait a minute…

"What's his last name?"

"You know, I think he started going by his mother's maiden name right before we met. Supposedly he and his father had a huge fight and…"

"What's his mother's maiden name?" I asked, feeling myself break out in a cold sweat.

"Hirschman."

I swallowed hard. Maggie…Madeline. My niece. Ashley's daughter. My brother. Her ex. It was all too much. I could feel the room spinning.

"Spencer, are you ok?"

I couldn't tell her. How could I tell her?

"I'm just feeling a little light-headed all of a sudden. Maybe I should get some rest if that's ok with you."

"Of course," she said, kissing me on my forehead.

I was in trouble.

-----------------------------

I had awful dreams. Dreams about losing her. Dreams about losing everything. And when I awoke in a cold sweat, breathing desperate and uneven, I realized my dreams were simply cinematic preludes to what could soon be my harsh reality.

I looked over at Ashley. Her body rose and fell evenly, indicating a deep sleep. I imagine her dreams weren't haunted by the turmoil that the truth could cause. I envied her and immediately hated myself for it. There was no reason to envy a woman who was being kept from her child by my own brother. There was no reason to envy a woman who could learn our truth and be forever broken by it. Ashley couldn't handle disappointment again. We hadn't known each other for very long, but I could already sense she had been through too much and had seen too little for the trouble.

Suddenly, she moves next to me, reaching for my waist as her eyes flutter open.

"Spencer…"

"Hey," I whisper, grabbing her lost hand and leading it to its destination.

"Hi," she whispers back, smiling as soon as the words leave her perfect lips.

"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. You can sleep."

Her eyes grow wider, "But you're awake."

"Yeah, I am."

"Why?"

"I was just thinking about…I was thinking about you."

Not completely a lie.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good things?"

I swallow hard, knowing that once the lying started there would be no going back. We would be tainted by it indefinitely. But what else could I do? What other choice did I have?

"Of course."

She grins wider this time, "I like sleeping next to someone I actually like. I've missed it. And it's even better that it's you."

"Is it?"

"It is. It really is," she says, and I can tell she'll drift off at any moment, "I'm so glad we found each other…you and me. It feels right."

I move fallen strands of chocolate brown hair out of her sleepy eyes, kissing her forehead before I respond.

"I completely agree."

"I'm not sure why, Spence, but I feel really close to you. There's this…this connection between us. It's really intense."

I consider laying it all out on the line, coming clean with the facts that I had just acquired. And maybe she would hate me. That was a definite possibility. But there was also the chance that she wouldn't. And minute by minute, moment by moment, I became more convinced that she and I could be the best thing that's ever happened in my sham of a life. I want to save us. And I've heard that honesty can do that sometimes. But when I look down, ready to tell her everything simply to see if this supposed honesty thing truly works, she's gone. Her eyes are closed and that calm, even breathing has returned. I can feel my nerve slipping already.

The next morning was hard. There are no words to make it better, no actions that could've prevented the inevitable. It was just hard. Ashley had an early-morning client, so I awoke up alone. I stupidly pawed the empty space next to me, as if by some magical aid she had simply miniaturized and gone into hiding in the mess of sheets.

But that wasn't the case.

I really didn't want to wake up alone, but I knew it would happen. Not only that, I knew it would happen again and again, as long as we had committed our bodies to this job. And what only bothered me slightly the day before, bothered me ten-fold now. Every time I thought of some undeserving hands on her supremely flawless body, I felt an internal shatter that nearly dismantled the indifference I had taken so long to construct. Every time I remember the feeling of her writhing beneath me or her hands in my hair or simply her sweet smile and surprisingly trusting eyes, I fragment just that much more. It feels impossible to bear, but I know it isn't. Somehow—despite my sudden selfishness—I know it isn't.

I search the night stand, praying for a note from her. And she doesn't disappoint.

**Spencer,**

**I'm with clients all day. I know, and I'm sorry. Trust me. But I can't wait to see you tonight. I think today will be easier knowing I get to come back to you. I'll call you when I get a chance. Or if your day is as busy as mine, you can call me too. That doesn't make any sense, does it? Ok, maybe I'll just see you later.**

 **Ashley**

I can't help but smile, trying to remember when she allowed herself to be so open with me. I almost can't believe she's the same person from my room that first night, her motives unclear.

"Spencer."

I drop the note as soon as I hear his voice, closing my eyes before turning to face him.

"Aiden."

"I've been looking for you everywhere."

"I'm sorry. I slept in here last night. My room was…cold."

"Really? Should I have someone check on the vent?" he asked, seeming sincerely concerned.

"No, no, no. It could just be my imagination, you know?"

He looks confused, "Yeah, I guess."

"Um, did you need me for something?"

"Oh, sorry. Yeah, I did. There's a guy I want you to meet."

"Ok, sure."

"But also, I wanted to ask you about Arthur."

I gasp before I can help myself. It's slight, but I think he notices.

My father. I had almost forgotten.

"What about him?"

"He hasn't called me since the last time you were supposed to meet with him. And he's a pretty consistent client, so I just wanted to make sure everything went…well."

"Oh. Yeah, everything was fine. He mentioned something about feeling guilty…um, about his wife and so maybe that was it for him. I mean, maybe he's done."

"Fuck," Aiden said, shaking his head, "alright, well this new guy…you'll like him, I think. More importantly, I think he'll like you."

"Great," I say, managing only minimal enthusiasm.

Once again, he notices, "Spencer, I really hate to be this guy. I really hate when you girls make me be this guy. But living here, having the resources that you do, it's a privilege. It's not something that just happens to every street whore in the world, you know? These aren't exactly normal circumstances."

"I know."

"And I need to see something from you. There are thousands of girl that can make some old guy blow his wad, ok? There are thousands of girls that can give a good blowjob. Trust me. I've met a lot of them. And they would kill to be right where you are."

"I know."

"So if you know this, then I'm asking you not to fuck it up, ok? I think you're stunning, Spencer, I really do. Beautiful face, beautiful body, smart…but I can't be sure about one out of those three things, you know? I can only see two of the three with my very own eyes. So you're going to have to put in some effort and show me that last one. You get me?"

"I think so."

"Good. Now, let me ask you something else."

"Sure."

"Did you see a client in here last night?"

I look around. There must be evidence.

"Um…"

"It's a yes or no, Spencer. Not a trick question."

"Yeah, yeah. I did actually."

"A chick, huh?" he says with a strange smile.

Oh God.

"Uh-huh."

"Good for you. See, that's a point in your favor. A lot of these girls won't do that shit. You know, fuck other girls. But it's good money. I don't have to tell you. You obviously know. Plus, it's less work. What do you do? You uh…finger fuck for awhile, maybe lick her a little bit?"

I wanted to vomit and attack this idiotic motherfucker at the same time.

"Yeah, exactly."

"See? Simple shit like that. You have a strap-on, I'm guessing?"

Oh God.

"I do."

He nods, as if I've just confirmed that he does in fact need a new car battery, "That's good. Some of those ladies love that imitation bullshit. Whatever. Let 'em do whatever the fuck they want as long as they've got the assets, you know what I mean?"

I had yet to find the motivator for this turn in conversation. Whenever I did find it, I had every intent of punishing it for what it had done to me.

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

"So you'll see her again, huh?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Good, make sure she gets her panties back," he says, pointing at Ashley's discarded thong next to the bed.

Oh God.

"Of course."

He nods again, more solemn this time, "I'm sorry that I had to talk to you like that."

"What?"

"I'm sorry that I had to threaten you or whatever you want to call it. It's just that, I want to provide the best for my customers. And it makes me sad when I have a girl in the house who doesn't seem to want the same. It's about taking pride in your work."

I almost laughed, but held it in by biting my tongue.

"Absolutely."

"I knew you'd understand."

"It's just that I've been a little under the weather lately. I think it's affected my work a little bit."

"Oh yeah? Are you ok?"

"I think so."

"Hey, if it doesn't let up, you let me know. I'll get Eric to bring you to the doctor. I don't like seeing my girls sick."

"I'll be sure to let you know."

"Good. Alright, well this guy I mentioned…he'll be stopping by in a couple hours. Big guy, balding. You'll know him when you see him."

"Thanks, I'll make sure he's taken care of properly."

"I trust that you will," he says, before leaving me alone in the room.

I take a deep breath and exhale loudly into the complicated space. It was just me, Aiden's lingering cloud of expensive cologne, and Ashley's thong, but it was a complicated combination.


	9. Chapter 9

Long one, guys! Enjoy!

**Chapter 9:**

I was still struggling with the recent developments—all of them. Being with Ashley, my father, my brother, my niece, Aiden. When had everything become so completely tangled? My life was simple once. I had sex with guys for money, I took showers, I went shopping. The end. Now I could only reminisce about my former brand of normalcy.

Ashley had asked me not to hurt her, and I knew the truth about my brother would do just that. I also knew that lying to her was selfish, because the reality is that I'm terrified. I'm terrified she might hate me for something I have no control over.

It was all so bizarre that there was a part of me that was desperate to share it. I wanted to tell everyone but the one person I _should_ tell. I needed someone to assure me that I was right in not telling her. I needed someone to allow me to feel like the victim in a crazy web of confusion before the true victims would finally know their horrible, unbelievable truths.

So naturally I told a client. One of my favorites. The only guy who I allow to know bits and pieces of my actual life. His name is Henry J. Wiler III, a dignified fifty year-old man with kind eyes whose wife died three years ago. He was madly in love with her so a new relationship was out of the question. But just like every animal, he missed the companionship. I was that for him. He listened quietly as I recounted the story for him. I skipped no details, as I trusted him and wanted his full opinion. I needed all the advice I could get, regardless of the source.

"Spencer, you seem to really care about this Ashley," he said with a soft smile.

"I do. I really, really do. Which is what makes everything so hard."

"That's usually the way it works."

"So what do I do, Henry? Because this whole thing is driving me crazy."

"What do you know about your brother's relationship with Ashley? Why is he keeping her from their child? Do you know?"

"Well, I haven't really been around a lot, you know? To like, actually know what's going on. But from what I can tell, there was a lot of power play involved. My brother is a bit of an asshole. I have no trouble admitting that. And he used to say that his ex…Ashley…wasn't mature or responsible enough to raise a kid. Maybe there was something about drugs," I say, the memory suddenly popping in my head.

Was Ashley on drugs?

"She's clean now, I assume?" Henry asked, nodding his head in hopeful expectancy.

"I guess. I mean, I don't even know that she was ever really on drugs. My brother would definitely lie about something like that to get his way."

"But the court would test her. Do you know if she tested positive?"

"I have no idea," I say, throwing my hands up in frustration, "maybe I don't know her very well."

"Knowing someone and knowing the details of their past…that's very different, Spencer."

"You're right. You're absolutely right. It's just that, if I could make someone into a villain, everything would be so much easier."

Henry nodded again, more vigorously this time, "When my wife died I tried to only remember the bad times. You know, console myself with the falsehood that she wasn't as incredible as I had remembered. But it was impossible. Because she was. More so, perhaps. The facts are the facts. You need to talk to Ashley."

"Really?" I ask, already knowing he's right.

"Really. Because if you wait and she finds out in some other way then your trust is gone. You haven't done anything wrong, Spencer. Remember that. You and your brother are not the same people. You have no control over his past with Ashley. All you can do is make all the right decisions now."

"What about my dad?"

"That's an entirely different issue," Henry says, chuckling slightly, "but you have to talk to him as well. That is, if you still want a relationship with him."

"He's my father, despite it all. And I think we've both disappointed each other here."

"I can only speak from experience…my experience as a father. It would be hard to know your daughter was in this industry. It's hard even for me to see you and know what you're out there doing."

Henry and I had never had a sexual relationship. I was more of an escort, and he took me to dinners and plays and we talked for hours. But there was never sex or even any mention of sex. Most of the time I would refuse money, just thankful to have a friend. Someone who valued me in other ways.

"I've been thinking a lot lately. And I know that I can't do this forever. I don't even know if I can do this another week."

"If it's money that's keeping you…"

"No, I have a lot of money saved. I could live a couple years off just my savings if I really needed to. That's the one perk of the job…besides you."

He smiled, "Then what is it? What keeps you from just walking out of that house today and never looking back?"

"It used to be because I was scared of having to find out who I really am and what I really want," I admitted, "and now…"

"It's Ashley?"

"It's Ashley."

"I'm a lawyer, you know."

"The only good one I've ever met," I joked, though for a second I wondered if it was actually true.

"If she needs help, I'd be glad to offer my services to her. I'd love to, in fact. Anything that benefits you. Because you know I want you to be happy."

"I do know that. I do."

I knew Henry was a good lawyer and I knew he'd help Ashley at the simplest request from me. But I had to remember Glen was involved. Did I want to choose sides so hastily? Was blood thicker than water all the time?

----------------------------

I sat around my room in an absolute fog. A self-induced haze. I had the mental blockers up and the threat level on red because I knew I had to tell her. And I knew that my opportunity to get away with my sudden knowledge had passed. Now she would only see that I had withheld the information for hours. Valuable hours in the quest to reclaim her daughter.

From my brother.

My fucking brother.

Apparently my walls were up more than I was even aware of because she caught me completely off-guard when she sat next to me, grabbing my hand.

"I knocked," she said sweetly, stroking my hand with her thumb, "but you didn't answer. And your light was on."

"No, it's fine. It's just been a weird day."

"Oh yeah? Crazy client? Anyone I know?"

"No, that's not it. I had Henry today. He's the best, most predictable client ever."

"Oh. Well what is it? Do you want me to leave?"

"No," I said, kissing her softly for what could be the last time, "I want you here."

"Good," she said, smiling wide.

"Because I have to talk to you."

"Good or bad, Spence? Should I brace myself?"

She laughed, but she had no idea. Knowing she had no idea broke my heart a little.

"It's hard to say. I hope it's good. But maybe it's bad. Either way, I hope you understand that I really didn't know what to do when I found out."

"Found out what?" she asked, visibly tensing now.

She was used to bad news, I'm sure and I tried so hard to force the words out. But it wasn't going to come easily.

"Spencer, found out what? What did you find out?" she asked again, more desperately this time.

"Your daughter…"

She stood up, practically jumping away from me. If it was about her daughter, it was important.

"Just tell me, Spence. I'm fucking serious, ok? Please just tell me."

"Your daughter…she's my niece. I'm…I'm Glen's sister."

She just stared at me, obviously trying to decide whether or not I was joking.

"You're Glen's sister?"

"Yeah, and Madeline…Maggie…she's my niece. I realized it this morning when you said Glen's name and…"

"Of course, his fucking runaway sister. Of course," she said, shaking her head in shock.

"I wouldn't exactly call myself a runaway…"

"His fucking sister! You're his sister. How the fuck did this happen? Why the fuck is this happening to me?"

"Ashley, please," I said, walking over to her.

"Please don't touch me right now, ok? I need time. I have to…I have to process this. I have to think."

"I understand."

"I'm fucking my daughter's aunt. I'm fucking Glen's sister."

I can't say her words didn't hurt. We were doing more than simply fucking. At least to me.

"Did he send you here? Are you here to keep me from getting Madeline back? Is that what this is? You're a fucking spy?"

"I know it's hard to believe but this is just a coincidence, Ashley. I swear."

"Does Glen know?" she asked softly. Too softly.

"What?"

"Does Glen know? Does he know? Have you told him?"

"No."

"But you're going to, aren't you?"

"Ash…"

"You're going to tell him and then that's it. I'll never see her again."

"You know I wouldn't do that to you."

"You're his sister. Would you do it to _him_?"

She had a point.

"I know how my brother is. He can be an asshole. And I can see how much you love her, Ashley. I know that she's your world."

"She is."

"So I don't know. It sucks to be in the middle but that's where I am. And I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't know what…"

I couldn't finish. What else could I say? I was trapped in an impossible situation.

-------------------------

Ashley didn't talk to me for days. It was strange, the way she would behave when she was in my presence. There was still the simple grazing of shoulders on her way past me or a smile in the kitchen over a cup of coffee. These were the things I did not understand. But as far as opening up to me, or even saying hello…nothing.

Kyla could tell something was going on. She made it very obvious, because all of a sudden she was very, _very_ interested in what I had to say again.

"She's mad at you, right?" she said on my third day of the hot/cold shoulder from her sister.

"I don't know if she's mad at me or is she's just…mad."

"Does it make a difference? You two aren't talking regardless."

"Are you working today?" I asked, attempting to change the subject.

But she was onto me.

"Uh-huh. Yeah, I am. But anyway, what did you do exactly? Like, how did you make her mad?"

"It's a really long story."

"I don't work until this evening."

"Kyla, I'm not telling you. Why don't you just ask her?"

"She won't tell me!"

"Tell you what?" Madison asked, walking into the kitchen (almost certainly) to make her infamous morning protein shake.

"Why Ashley is mad at her."

"Ashley's always mad. Who cares? If the sun is shining, Ashley's mad. If people are breathing, Ashley's mad," Madison said, taking a seat on the counter.

"Well this time she's really mad and it's because of Spencer."

"Whoa, Kyla. Would you please just stay out of it?" I said, the irritation settling in.

She holds up her hands defensively, "Hey, I'm just trying to figure it out before Aiden does."

"What does he have to do with anything?"

"He doesn't like there to be a lot of stupid girl drama in the house."

"That's true," Madison said, nodding slowly, "the last girl that fought with Ashley was…well, let me put it this way. You're here. She's not. Get it?"

"This is beyond just keeping my place in this house, ok? I'm in love with Ashley."

"That's even worse and you know it," Kyla said.

And I couldn't disagree. Falling in love is not an option in this business. It isn't an option in your business life, and if you're smart it isn't an option in your personal one either. Even worse, my competition knew. And I didn't know Kyla or Madison well enough to determine how far they would go to make it to the top. Or in Kyla's case, screw Ashley over.

"Kyla, please just let me handle this."

"Wait, since when are you fucking Ashley?" Madison asked, out of the loop as usual.

"When are you going to handle it?" Kyla asked before I could answer.

But for the hundredth time in the last few days, I was left speechless. So I left. I grabbed my cell phone and walked right out the front door.

--------------------------------

I ended up in the last place I would've expected myself to retreat to—my childhood home. I had Eric drop me off at the end of the street so as not to arouse more suspicion than absolutely necessary. As soon as the house entered my view, I was overwhelmed by how unattached I felt to it. This used to be home.

This used to be my yard and my window and my driveway and my life. This used to be my life. And I had seemed to crawl down that driveway and through every dirty L.A. street into the worst and best decision of my life.

The Dennison House.

How had I ended up so far away from this two-story, suburban dream and into my parent's worst nightmare?

Who was I?

"Spence?" my mom said, shattering my moment of reality.

She was in her garden, hair in a messy ponytail and overalls on.

"Mom, hey…"

"Oh my goodness! I didn't even know you were coming. I'll kill your father if he just forgot to tell me."

"No, he doesn't know. It was kind of spur of the moment."

"Well, come in. Your dad just went out to get a few things for a big breakfast. And your brothers will be here in just a few minutes."

"Wait, since when does everyone come for breakfast on Saturday?"

"Well, for the past couple of years, actually. You've just been more busy that you've realized, huh?" she said with a sad smile.

I want to cry, but I smile back at her, "Yeah, I guess. But I'm here now."

"Yeah, you are."

We didn't say anything for several moments and I could feel her eyes memorizing this new physical version of her daughter. I wasn't the same girl who had left home years ago. I was my own dysfunctional, contrived version of a woman and I could tell that didn't coincide with the version she had planned on.

"I should change, maybe," I said, feeling a little uneasy.

"Of course. Your room is still…your room. And your clothes from high school are still in there. They'll fit, I'm sure. You look like you've lost weight if anything. Lots of exercise in the library?"

"Something like that."

"Ok, well I'll come in with you. I should probably change out of these overalls."

"Mom?"

"Yes, honey?"

"You look good. Like, you still look really, really good," I say, remembering the secret I now shared with my father.

"You think so? I don't know. Now your father, he still looks good."

"No, you look incredible. Trust me. It takes eyes that don't look at you everyday."

-----------------------------

I was in my room when my brothers arrived. Standing in an old version of myself. There were certificates and plaques and trophies and none of them meant anything anymore. If anything they represented someone I had forgotten all about to cope with my new life. Did this girl have any idea what direction her life would go in? Did this Spencer Carlin have any clue how easy it is to acquire a life that wasn't pre-written as yours?

No.

Because this Spencer Carlin was sitting in bleachers wondering what it was like to kiss a girl and dancing at prom with the equally boring neighbor, Patrick Smith, and wishing her life was more exciting than she could ever imagine it to be. This Spencer Carlin was making it easier for the new version to justify her choices. There's nothing worse than being boring. Or so I thought.

So _she_ thought.

There was one quick knock on the door before it flew open and my brother was standing there with a miniature Ashley Davies. I could see it now. There was no mistake. Maggie was hers.

"Guess who finally deemed us good enough to show up," Glen said, but his smile was light. Friendly.

"Whatever. I was in the neighborhood."

"It's the suburbs, Spence. No one is ever just 'in the neighborhood.'"

"Hey, Maggie," I say to my niece, ignoring her father.

"Maggie? Since when do you call her Maggie?" Glen asked.

Oh God.

"My friends at school call me Maggie, Daddy."

"See, Glen?" I say, my panic subsiding, "and we're friends, right? Aren't we, Maggie?"

"Yeah!" she says, excitedly.

I had really missed this kid. And I wasn't the only one.

"Go tell Grandma about your play, kiddo," Glen said, "let me talk to Aunt Spencer."

I could hear her tiny, hyper footsteps on the stairs as her father stared at me.

"So what are you really doing here, Spence? Seriously. Don't try to bullshit a bullshitter."

"I missed everyone, ok? And last time I checked, these people downstairs were my parents too."

Glen shrugged, "Fine."

"How's Maggie?"

"She's good. We're good. It gets hard sometimes, but it's worth it. Obviously."

"Right. Well I guess that's where mothers can be helpful, you know? When it gets hard."

"Yeah, unless those mothers are horrible bitches that try to take your kid with them to New York."

What?

"Wait, I thought her mother was supposedly on drugs, Glen."

"Look, you gotta tell the courts something, alright? I wasn't letting her take Madeline to New York. She knew I was too busy to ever catch a flight out there. But she didn't care because she hates me. It fuels her. Fucking bitch."

"So she was never on drugs? How did you…"

"I knew somebody, Spence. I'm a lawyer for Christ's sake. Don't you think I know people?"

"I can't believe you, Glen. Like seriously, this is a new low for you. You're keeping your daughter from a mother that loves her and that's completely unfair."

"How would you know if Ashley loves her or not?"

God question.

"She fought for her, didn't she? She tried at least…before you sabotaged her."

"If it's any consolation, Baby Sis, I hear she's a fucking whore now or something. It's just a rumor, but I can see it happening. She was hot if nothing else. A lot of my friends would've paid for sure."

"You're an asshole."

"Yeah, I know. So shall we?" he asked with a winning smile, gesturing towards the stairs.

"This is going to come back and bite you in the ass. You know that, right?"

"Let me guess. You're going to track her down and tell her?" he asked, never losing his smile.

"Maybe," following him down the stairs.

---------------------------------

So I knew what I had to do. Maybe I had known from the beginning. Who knows? Either way, it was becoming completely clear that I had to help Ashley get her daughter—my niece—back in her arms. I watched Glen carefully as we all sat around the breakfast table. The room was vibrating with the laughter and yelling that you'd only find amusing coming from your own family and even then you're praying for a moment of silence.

He was good with Madeline. You could tell how much he loved her just by watching the way he would look at her. All of a sudden he would morph into more than my asshole brother.

He was a father.

But he was also a father who was lying to keep his daughter away from a mother who wanted to see her/touch her/love her more than anything. And there's no way I could stand by with the knowledge that I had and let it happen. I owed it to Ashley. But most of all, I owed it to Madeline.

"Spencer, you're mighty quiet over there," my dad said, smiling warmly at me from across the table.

"I was just thinking. I'm fine."

"Thinking about chicks?" Glen asked, helping himself to more food.

"Glen!" my mother said sharply before turning to me apologetically, "Spencer, tell us. Have you been dating anyone…special?"

I considered lying, but decided against it, "Actually, yes."

"Really?" my father said, sounding surprised.

I suppose he didn't think a whore could balance a relationship and the job. It's not easy, Dad, but it happens.

"Is she hot?" Glen asked between bites.

I nodded.

"When do we get to meet her?" my mom asked excitedly.

"Um…soon. I promise."

"Does that mean you'll be coming around more?" Clay asked—always the preferable sibling, "We miss you."

I could feel a rebel tear making its way down my face, "I miss you guys too. And yeah, I can try, you know? To come around more…if you're ok with that."

"Of course we are. You're always welcome, Spence. I've told you before," my dad said, quietly. He and I shared a knowing glance before he quickly turned away.

After breakfast I offered to help my dad stack the dish washer so we could talk. If I was seriously going to try reclaiming my family, it was mandatory that I clear the air with my father. We had been close before. I wanted to believe it could happen again, despite both of our secrets.

"Dad," I said, after several moments of awkward silence.

He rinsed, I stacked. And the rhythm kept us distracted. The distraction kept us silent. And the silence kept us from speaking the truth.

"Yes, honey?"

"We've got to talk about this."

"I know."

"So talk."

He sighed deeply, stilling his movements, "Your mother and I are two very busy people. We've always been busy, but there was a time when we still made sure we checked in with each other. We still made sure the other person felt important…needed. Lately there's just…we don't talk anymore. We don't take the time to try to figure out what's missing either. I don't know, Spence. You're old enough to know what it's like to feel alone. You know what it's like to want someone to talk to or at least someone to just sit with you."

"Yeah."

"Well that's what I wanted. And so I found it somewhere else."

"You need to talk to her. You know that."

"I do know that."

There was no one who understood his situation more. I couldn't necessarily relate in exactly the way he needed me to, but this was my chosen profession and I knew the wants and needs of my clients very, very well. Even the psychological ones. But this was my father. This wasn't just some john that went home to a family I would never have to see. This man was going home to a woman, looking her right in the eyes and lying. And this woman—this unsuspecting woman—was my mother.

"So I found out about the Dennison House. Aiden made it sound so easy," he continued, no longer looking at me, but instead staring at the sink.

"He's good at that."

"And I thought about it a long time before I actually made the call."

"I'm sure they all do."

He nodded, "Yeah, well…eventually I did make it, however, and I met Madison. I met Kyla a few times."

"Seriously?"

He had no idea who Kyla was. He had no idea that the at this point he had arranged "meetings" with both his daughter and the sister of his grandchild's mother. This was all starting to spiral into one gigantic mess.

"But only when I couldn't reach Madison."

"Why me?"

"What?"

"Why did you arrange to meet with me?"

"Aiden said he had someone new in the house. He thought it was a good idea for me to meet you and so I did."

"I imagine you were pretty surprised, huh?"

"You could say that. I just…I don't understand, Spencer. I know I'm the last one who can judge you right now, but I just don't understand why. You went to college…we tried to give you every opportunity. How did this happen? Why do you feel like you have to do this?"

"Honestly?"

"Of course."

"I was bored. I had lived such a boring life. And I didn't want to just do everything that I was supposed to do for once. I know that's not an excuse, but it's just the way it is. I was tired of being some perfect all-American princess."

"Sometimes we have to do what's least expected of us. Sometimes the most responsible thing we can do for ourselves is shirk our supposed responsibilities."

"I guess. Yeah."

"I think we can all understand that, Spence. But there's got to be a better way. We didn't expect you to become a mechanic. Can't you go do that?" he asked with a smile.

I laughed, "If it makes you feel any better, I know that it's time to do something different, ok? I know that it's time to leave the house."

"Good. And I know you're getting tired of hearing this, but if you need to come back here to get on your feet then your room is always here for you."

"What about you? Are you going to talk to mom?"

"I will. I promise. I just hope this doesn't mean that we're…I don't want to lose her."

"Mom loves you. And let's be real here, Dad. You met a prostitute for awhile and all you did was talk to her. That's pretty admirable, actually."

"I think 'admirable' might be taking it a bit far."

"Ok, fine. But you could've slept with her and you didn't."

"I don't think it's going to make much of a difference. But thanks."

He looked sad and suddenly very much his age. I couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy, even though I knew he had to come clean with my mom. And I knew that if he didn't, I would do it for him and expose us both. Not something I would be excited to do, but it would be necessary. My mother's practically a saint and she deserved a confession.

I could hear my phone ringing the second I closed the dishwasher.

"I think that's your phone, honey," my dad said, wiping his hands with a striped dish towel.

"Don't worry, I'll get it for you!" Glen yelled from the dining room.

What kind of asshole answers someone else's cell phone?

"Glen, no! I got it," I said, practically running in to stop him.

But I was too late. And I could tell from his face alone who it was.

"Wait…like Ashley Davies?" he said into the mouthpiece, but he was staring at me.

"Glen, give me the phone."

"And why are you calling my sister?...how did you meet?...oh, you've got to be kidding me…no, that's great. This is just freaking great…"

I had no idea what Ashley was saying, but from Glen's responses I could tell that it was a lot more than I would've wanted her to.

He hung up the phone, glaring at me.

"Did you just hang up on her?" I asked, saying anything to break the silence.

"Spencer, you have so much explaining to do. So, so much."

"No, I don't."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," I said, crossing my arms.

There was no way I was going to be bullied by my own brother. Though I was terrified. I had never seen him so angry.

"You're fucking her?"

"I'm not answering that."

Suddenly he was directly in front of me, screaming in my face, "Yes you are! Yes you fucking are!"

"Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute," my mother said, making her way over to where we stood, "we're not going to let Madeline hear any of this language! And we're definitely not going to scream at each other like we're strangers."

"You'll be screaming too, mom. Once Spencer admits that she's sleeping with Ashley," Glen said, taking a step back.

"Ashley?" my dad said.

I didn't see him come in.

"Yeah, Madeline's egg donor," Glen answered.

But I wasn't going to let this happen. I wasn't going to be grilled in front of my entire family. I wasn't willing, nor was I ready.

"Mom, Dad…I'll call you," I said, grabbing my phone and purse and heading directly out the front door. But this time there was no family to go find comfort with. I was all out of allies. And then I heard my phone ring.

------------------------------

"Ashley?"

"Spencer, I'm so sorry," Ashley said. She sounded as though she had been crying, and though I've seen it before, vulnerable Ashley still seems strange to me.

"Ash, it's fine."

"No, it's not. I mean, this is your family we're talking about. Did I mess up? Tell me, did I mess things up with your family? Madison said that…"

"No, you didn't mess anything up, ok?"

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Really? Because if I did something that…"

"Ash! You have to listen to me. Everything is fine. The only person I'm worried about is you."

"Why would you be worried about me?"

"Because you had to talk to my asshole brother, and I know his voice is probably the last thing you expected to hear."

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter. All that matters is that I didn't mess things up for you."

"Well, I'm going to tell you again. You didn't."

"Are you coming home?"

Home.

The concept of home was a confusing one to me as of late. I seemed to be split into two separate versions of the person I once was. One lived amongst the trophies and the other amongst the wreckage of L.A.'s dirty little secrets. One led me to that wreckage and that wreckage was returning the favor because suddenly maybe "home" meant in there with the battling Carlins. The Dennison House was becoming just that—a house.

But then there was Ashley, who was falling apart all because of my brother. And I was thrust into the position of being the only one who could help her.

"Yeah, I'm going to call Eric and I'll be there soon."

"Are you sure you don't want me to just pick you up?"

"How?"

"I have a car, you know. It's parked in the garage."

"I didn't even know we had a garage."

She laughed a little, and I was grateful to hear it, "Well we do. And I can come get you. We can go grab some coffee or something."

"Yeah, ok."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, that sounds great."

-------------------

Ashley picked me up a few blocks away from my house. I didn't want to take the chance that my brother might see her and to be honest, I needed the walk to clear my head.

"Hey," she said simply, as if our worlds hadn't just collided in the worst way possible.

"Hi," I replied, sliding into the passenger seat, "nice car."

"It was a gift," she said, without bothering to elaborate.

"I've missed you, Ash. These past few days…I've really missed you."

I didn't mean to admit it so early, but it was still just as true. The second I locked eyes with her all I could think about was how it had been way too long since it last happened.

"I've missed you too, Spence."

"Seriously?"

"Of course. And I was stupid. I was really fucking stupid to let you go around thinking this had anything to do with you. I was just really, really surprised, you know? And I didn't want to believe it, but I also knew that you wouldn't lie to me," she said, grabbing my hand before continuing, "you are so important to me. And I'm so glad I have you in my life despite all the fucked up shit I've done. I know I don't deserve you."

"No, you deserve…"

"Spence, wait…"

"No, I have to say this. Because you're about to say something wildly untrue and I won't let you. Ashley, you deserve so much more than you know. So much."

"My daughter?" she asked, her voice breaking in a way that nearly ripped my heart to shreds.

"Of course! And the only thing that stands in the way of you having her is my dick of a brother. But we're going to change that."

"What do you mean?"

"I know a guy who wants to help. A lawyer. And my brother—well before he knew—he said some things to me that might help us. I mean, it's my word versus his, but in the very least we've got you a lawyer."

"It's not fair to ask you to help."

"She's my niece, Ash. She's my niece. And yes, my brother loves her as much as he possibly can. But she deserves to have her mother too."

We sat on that corner, in my old neighborhood with my family only seconds away and we agreed that Ashley had no choice but to fight for her daughter. My niece. And we agreed on something else as well.

"You know what this means, right?" I said, the relief washing over me.

"What?"

"You can stop doing this. We can stop living at the Dennison House. You and me, we can get out of this…this life."

"I don't know where this is coming from."

"You can stop saving. Harry wants to do this pro bono. And you were saving to get a lawyer who could take on Glen. Well, you have it. What else are you waiting for?"

"I mean, I guess you're right. I just…I hadn't really thought about it. But yeah, you're right. Wow…yeah."

I smiled at her, watching the realization take affect on her face, "See? Things are looking up, aren't they?"

"I guess."

"You guess?"

"Are you coming with me? 'Cause I kind of like living with you…maybe…a little bit."

She was so fucking adorable.

"A little bit?"

"Yeah, a little bit. Like this much," she said, holding her fingers close together.

"Well that's enough for me, so sure. I'll come with you."

"Really? Like we're really going to do this? You and me?"

"Absolutely. I mean, I love you so why wouldn't I want to live with you?"

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," She says, smiling ear to ear and dropping my hand, "what did you just say?"

"When?" I say, playing dumb.

"Right then."

"Oh, I don't really remember, why?"

She nods, "I love you too, Spence."

And everything seems suddenly very, very worth it.


	10. Chapter 10

_Hey, guys. Sorry if these chapters are seeming a little disjointed lately. That's simply because one chapter on here was at some point 2 or 3, you know? And therefore I have to stop at some weird places when posting. I'm thrilled that people seem to be liking this story. I know the title and subject matter can initially be a little off-putting, but trust me, once you get in it's not what you'd expect. And I can't say I don't have a few surprises up my sleeve. Stay tuned..._

**Chapter 10:**

Ashley knew Aiden better than I did, but even I knew that losing two girls at once—let alone one that he had been sleeping with—was going to upset him. Ashley had insisted that she be the one to tell him, and I was more than willing to go along with her plan. Though I can't say I expected her to invite him over so soon. And I certainly didn't expect for "soon" to be that night. But there was something that came over Ashley as soon as she realized her time in the house was coming to a very abrupt ending. She was happy—thrilled even. And since I was in love with both her and the smile she kept flashing me as she talked about getting Maggie back, I didn't protest when she picked up the phone and dialed Aiden's number.

She revealed nothing over the phone, simply telling him that she wanted to talk to him and asking him to drop by. As soon as she hung up the phone and sat down next to me on her bed, I felt a familiar knot of anxiety in the pit of my stomach and no matter what, I couldn't will it away.

"Are you ok?" she asked, kissing my forehead as we lay beside each other.

"I don't know, Ash. Something feels weird about this."

"It's going to be fine. I mean, you heard me on the phone with him. You won't even have to see him. He's coming over really late…after his wife falls asleep."

"You're not going to tell him that it's because we're together, are you? Because I really don't think it's a good idea."

"Spencer, you have to calm down. Aiden is harmless, ok? Trust me. It's going to be fine."

But I wasn't going to just be pacified, "Are you or are you not going to tell him, Ashley?'

She stared at me, finally realizing just how scared I was, "I think he might already know."

-------------------------------

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"I think he might already know," she repeated, grabbing my hand and kissing it twice, "and it's ok."

"It's ok? He knows and it's ok?"

"He _might_ know, but I don't see what difference it makes, Spence."

"You weren't here the morning he asked me about your thong, so you don't know the difference it makes. But trust me, Ashley. It makes one."

She stared at me a long time before answering, her eyes somehow maintaining an innocence that the rest of her could not. And it made me want to kiss her when I shouldn't. Because we had more important matters at hand and I wanted them taken seriously. But her mouth, with its perfect twin lips and bold tongue were quickly making me forget. Luckily, she wasn't as weak.

"What did he say to you?" she asked, suddenly a bit more concerned.

"He was really vulgar. Super creepy. He thought that I had entertained a female client and so he asked me all these weird, inappropriate questions about it. I can't explain why, but something just didn't seem right then, and it definitely doesn't feel right now."

"Like I said, you don't even have to talk to him. I'll let him know everything myself. And yeah, it might be weird since he's a little in love with me. But he also had to see this day coming. I mean, girls leave the house all the time and they do it without any shit from Aiden."

"You really think that? You really think this will go that smoothly?"

"I do. And so you just have to trust me, ok?"

"It's not you that I don't trust here, Ash."

"I know, but either way it has to be done. Because there is nothing that makes me happier than imagining my life with you…and Madeline. And if talking to Aiden is what I have to do in order to make that my reality, then I'll do it. What other choice do I have?"

"No, you're right. I'm sorry. I just really want this to happen."

"I know. Me too."

"Then we're on the same page?" I asked for confirmation, taking a deep breath.

"No, I don't think so, Carlin."

I looked at her, obviously confused.

"I'm way, way ahead of you," she replied, before erupting in a fit of laughter.

"My joke, Ashley Davies. That's _my_ joke."

"Yeah, but it's funnier when I say it," she says, still laughing.

"I'm sorry, what was it that made me attracted to you again? Because I seem to be forgetting."

"I'll show you," she said, planting tiny kisses down my neck and all the way to my exposed shoulders.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Her mouth was fleeting, and unsatisfying. It stayed nowhere long enough, and if I didn't know any better I would swear it wasn't meeting my skin at all. But there's one very, very important sign that allows me to see the reality.

I'm incredibly wet.

And she has to know it. She has to know what she does to me. The way my chest rises and falls almost violently every time her fingers dip inside the curve of my belly button. I want her so much it's almost embarrassing. It's embarrassing not to be able to hide the fact that she has this much control over me.

"Spencer?"

"I have to get that."

"What?"

"My phone."

I must have tuned it out. Imagine.

She untangled herself from me and retrieved her phone. After a few short words, she hung up and zipped the jeans I don't remember ever unzipping.

"Aiden's wife is out so he's heading over here now."

"Ok, so I'm guessing this means I need to take a rain check and a cold shower?"

She laughed, "As soon as I get rid of him, Spencer..."

"It's ok. I have a client early in the morning."

"Really?"

"Really. Why? You don't believe me?"

"No, I do. It just sucks. It sucks that I can't make love to you because you have a guy to fuck tomorrow morning."

"And it sucks you can't make love to me because you have to go explain to our pimp that you used to sleep with that we're madly in love now and moving out together to focus on getting your daughter back who actually happens to be my niece. That sucks," I say, standing up to give her a soft kiss on her forehead.

----------------------------------------

I lay in bed, barely moving. Listening for voices. Ashley's. Aiden's. But all I heard was silence, and it had been hours. I almost regretted telling Ashley I had an early morning. Because then I wouldn't have to wonder if she was still down there talking to him. The anxiety was suffocating me.

I didn't trust him. And I knew that Ashley did—which only made her vulnerable. But just as the anxiety was getting too much to bear, I heard a gentle knock on my door.

I ran to the door, grinning like an idiot, thanking God that Ashley had decided to come be with me anyway.

"Ashley," I said, swinging the door wide open.

"Not so much," he said, wearing a smile of his own.

"Oh, Aiden…hi."

"Disappointed?"

"No, I just…"

"Well, I'm disappointed too," he says, sliding past me and into my room, "I'm very, very disappointed."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Are you?"

"Sure."

"Well, that's good. That's really good."

"I have an early morning, ok? So maybe I should go back to sleep."

"In just a second," he said, plopping himself down on the edge of my bed.

"Um…ok."

"I talked to Ashley. But hey, I'm sure you know that already, right?"

"She mentioned that she was…"

"And she informed me that you two are together. Which is just fucking great. I mean, really great."

"Thanks."

"But it's interesting, you know? Because I'm sure you know that she and I were a thing."

"A thing?"

"Yeah, we were fucking."

I really didn't feel comfortable with where this was going, and that anxiety I thought was suffocating me earlier had multiplied ten-fold.

"Aiden…"

"I don't usually do that, Spencer. I don't usually fuck my girls. But she's special. I'm sure you agree."

"She's amazing."

"Tell me, is there anything better than the way she bites your neck or whispers in your ear while you're inside her?"

"I don't want to do this."

"She's just a whore, Carlin. Just like you. She wouldn't mind."

"She used to do this thing where she's grab my balls when…"

"Get out," I said, swallowing the bile rising in my throat, "I'm serious, Aiden. I'm not going to listen to this shit."

"Oh, calm down. I didn't think you'd be so sensitive. I mean for God's sake, you sell your body for money. Something tells me you're no prude," he said, still wearing that smug smile, "but I'm about to find out."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He nodded and reached into the interior pocket of his coat. It was hard to make at first, the darkness veiling the object. But as soon as the light hit the shiny metal I realized it was a gun. And I started to realize how right I was to be scared.

"I don't want to have to use it, obviously. But you can't blame me for having to see what it is that makes Ashley so happy. What your pussy has that my dick doesn't. I just have to know."

"What does that mean?" I asked, knowing full well exactly what it meant. But I was buying time. Putting off the inevitable.

"You're going to let me fuck you. Then you're free to go live your fairytale life with your little girlfriend. It's a decent deal, actually."

"And if I say no?"

He holds the gun to my temple, the cold steel putting my entire life in perspective in a single moment.

"Then I blow your pretty little brains right out. Your choice."

"They'll hear you."

"Then unfortunately they would have to go out the same way. No one will miss them. I'll get new girls in here by tomorrow and no one will ever know the difference. That's the beauty of this thing, Spencer. No matter what, I still make money."

"You don't have to do this, Aiden," I whispered quietly as he removed the gun from my temple. And I cursed myself for saying something so cliché in such a desperate moment.

"Oh, but I do. I really do. Because not only did you steal the best fuck of my life, you stole my best money-maker. And you want to go off somewhere and try to turn her into Mrs. Susy Homemaker? Let me tell you something. It's not going to work. Some girls are made for this business. Ashley's one of them."

"You know nothing about her."

"I know everything that matters."

I shook my head and he laughed, "Don't be stupid, Spencer. Trust me. She's not worth it."

"She's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"She's the best thing that's ever happened to hundreds of guys. What's your point?"

I was fuming now. So beyond scared. If he was going to kill me, then in the very least Ashley's honor would be defended—for once.

"You're an asshole," I said, plainly.

"No more conversation. I'm an asshole. You're a whore. Whatever. Take everything off."

And despite every effort, I could feel the first tear make its way down my face.

-------------------------------------

I lay in bed, shaking. Terrified. Vulnerable.

I lay in bed knowing that something significant had just taken place, but having no idea how to react. Aiden had threatened me before he left, leaving his sloppy, careless kisses on my neck and his scent in my bed. If we left he would find us. If he found us, he would kill us.

I wanted Ashley. I wanted something…someone to hold onto. I wanted to remind myself what trust looked like. But I couldn't move. My body had been on auto-pilot to accommodate the humiliation that went along with every cruel thrust of Aiden's revenge. And now I was having a hard time snapping back into reality. I was having a hard time forgetting the sensation of being taken advantage of by someone who only wanted to punish me.

There's a big difference between selling your body and rape. A lot of people don't think so, but there is. And that big difference is "choice." It's my own decision to sleep with men for money. It happens at my own allowance when I wish to entertain such advances. But to be stripped of your clothes and then stripped of your power by a man who wishes you harm feels like a very different game indeed.

It had never happened to me.

I was supposed to be too smart to let it happen. I was too careful to ever get hurt. But I wasn't. All I could see now was his large frame looming over me and his eyes bearing into mine. To think that Ashley had trusted him. What did she see in his eyes that I couldn't? Who was the Aiden that she knew?

But the most important question, the one insistently running through my head again and again…

What now?

-------------------------------------

The next morning I awoke quickly, simply startled by the fact that I had managed to find sleep with so many thoughts and so much disappointment. I showered—without tears somehow—and walked down to the kitchen. I didn't want to be alone. I completely welcomed the usually annoying chatter of bitter Kyla and lying Madison. I craved it even. Because I wanted that normalcy back. I wanted to deny my desire for more and better and simply slip into this world again. I had done it once.

But that's when I saw her and I instantly knew I couldn't go back. Ashley sat at the table, flipping lazily through a "Cosmopolitan" magazine and nibbling on a slice of wheat toast. When she saw me, her face immediately lit up and all I could see in her smile was the fact that "more and better" was with her. And I wanted it all.

"Hey," she said, gesturing for me to sit down next to her, "I thought you had a client."

"I can't go."

"You can't go?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

"I just couldn't do it today."

"Did you call him?"

"Please, Ash. Just drop it."

The last thing I wanted to do was see a client after Aiden had spent most of the night forcing himself on me again and again. My body could only take so much. My heart could only break into so many pieces.

But there was Ashley Davies, looking deep into my eyes. She was taking a needle and thread to every piece without even knowing it. By just sitting there and being herself.

"I'm sorry. I mean, I guess it doesn't matter anyway, right? You and me are getting the hell out of here."

She was smiling again, and despite the way I felt I couldn't help but smile back.

"Right."

"So I talked to Aiden."

I cringed at hearing his name aloud, "How did…how did it go?"

"I guess I can't say he's thrilled or anything, but I think he knew it was coming…which probably helped."

"So he seemed fine?"

"Yeah. Mostly he was upset that he was losing me after so long and you so soon, you know?"

"Wait, but did you tell him about us?"

She shook her head, "I didn't think it was necessary. Why would that matter to him?"

But he knew. And if Ashley didn't tell him…

"Good morning, love birds," Madison sang as she walked into the kitchen.

Madison.

I knew it. I knew she was a liar. No matter how friendly. No matter how funny. The best liars are always both.

"Morning, Maddie," Ashley said, casually. She was completely unaware of how betrayed she had been.

It took every ounce of control I possessed not to jump on her right then and there. But I had to play this smart. "Hey, Madison."

"When did Aiden finally leave last night?" she asked, of course looking at Ashley, "I saw his car was still outside when I went to the bathroom."

"What time was that?"

"Like, four or five, maybe?"

Ashley shook her head, "No way. He left closer to midnight."

"No, he left around five," I said quietly.

Ashley's eyes locked on mine, "How do you know? You saw his car?"

"No."

I hadn't even considered the moment in which I told her the truth. Maybe it was because I had never planned on actually telling her the truth—at least, not in its entirety. But in the clear reality of this morning, I realized it would have to be done. There was a threat after all.

He would kill us.

And there was nothing that I wouldn't do to protect every fucking hair on Ashley's head. Even if that meant lying to save her. But what if that wasn't possible? What if she could see right through me?

"He was with me," I said. Just saying the words sent a chill down my spine.

"He was with you?" Ashley repeated.

"Yeah."

"You talked. Like, I mean you two talked about what's going to happen?"

"No, we didn't do much talking actually."

"Wait, what's going to happen?" Madison asked with an excited smile, "I love gossip."

"Spence, can I talk to you in my room please?" Ashley asked, stone-faced.

I nodded, following close behind her as we walked out of the kitchen—passing a disappointed Madison—and down the hall to her room. As soon as the door shut, I knew my lying would only get more difficult. Though I can't say I had lied yet, technically.

"What the fuck's going on, Spencer?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Look, I am literally begging you not to try to bullshit me right now. We've come too far now for you to bullshit me. Now please, please, please…just tell me the fucking truth," she pleaded, grabbing my hands as if to show me physically just how much I could trust her.

But I was an idiot.

"I'm not trying to bullshit you."

"Fine, then what is this shit with Aiden?"

"He was in my room. Big deal. He's been in your room a million times."

I could tell she was restraining herself as much as she could. But an exasperated sigh slipped out, "Really? That's where you're going to go with this? You're going to bring up the fact that I've slept with Aiden and use it against me? Use it as a reason not to explain what the hell happened last night?"

"I love you," I said, needing to say it before she walked away from me forever.

"Don't say that. Because if you don't trust me then it doesn't mean anything."

"I do trust you."

"Then this should be simple."

"Ashley…"

"Please tell me what's going on," she pleaded again, eyes closed.

I couldn't do this.

"Aiden was in my room because…because I guess someone had already told him about us."

"Ok…"

"And after you talked to him he probably put the two together and realized that we were both giving up the business to be with each other."

"Did he get mad at you? Is that what happened?"

"You could say that. Yeah, he did."

"I'm sorry. Maybe we should've told him together after all. But he's ok now, right? You sorted it out?"

"Not quite."

"What happened?" she asked, hesitantly. I could see the worry begin to settle in her face.

"He made me…um…he forced himself…on me."

She was completely silent, staring at me with no expression at all. It was almost frightening.

"He raped me and he said that if we left, he would kill us."

"He raped you?"

I nodded, not sure of what reaction I was supposed to have. I still felt mostly numb.

"He fucking put his hands on you? You've got to be kidding me."

She was pacing now, her hands in her hair.

"Ash, what are we going to do?" I asked, walking over and stilling her with my hands on her waist, "he said he'd kill us."

"We'll work it out, ok? Just tell me that you're alright. Are you…does anything hurt? Should we take you to the hospital?"

"No, nothing hurts. I'm not sure if I should go to the hospital. I don't know anything right now. I just want…I just want to be with you."

"He's not going to get away with this, Spence. We're getting out of here—especially now.

"But what are we going to do about…"

"Oh, I have just the thing. Don't worry about that at all. I'm about to make that motherfucker wish he had never been born."


	11. Chapter 11

_Ok, so this is the last chapter before the finale. SO I'll see ya tomorrow...and trust me, you're in for it!_

**Chapter 11:**

As I packed away the last detail of this room that I had made mine over these last few months, I breathed a sigh of relief so deep that it was almost painful. Ashley's words had shaken me to the core, but I had trusted them. They were said with a venom I had assumed she was capable of but had never been a witness to myself. This business could make a girl into a woman overnight, and there's a psychological smear that goes along with such a transformation. Girls out here wore them like war paint. It was almost a form of protection. A lie you tell yourself when getting out of bed every morning and preparing to be in other people's beds all day. You tell yourself that you're different. That you can—without fear—handle the damage of the job and that your ability to feel very little is a plus instead of a giant minus. These lies are critically important. They're everything.

I knew Ashley had taken the damage in stride just as I had all these years. But eventually it all catches us with you. And then there's the pain and the anger and a desire for revenge that confuses you. Fucks with your perception of the enemy. Because after all, you did this to yourself.

I saw that anger in her eyes and knew that it was a reflection of my own. Only, she wanted to lay claim to my battles and fight them herself. She had been betrayed by Aiden and now he had to suffer the damage of two women she was learning to love—me and herself.

"Are you done, Spence? We should probably bring this stuff over to the storage place," Ashley said, leaning against the doorframe.

We were staying in a hotel while we searched for the right apartment. Ashley wanted a place near a park with at least two bedrooms. She didn't have to tell me why but I knew it was because of Maggie. And I wanted a place closer to my family with big closets. Ashley and I both had enough clothes to fill an entire store. So, we were going to take our time and make sure we were both happy. We had more than enough money to get it right. For once I wanted to get something right.

"Ash, can I ask you something?"

"Sure…yeah. What's up?"

"This thing with Aiden…"

"Are you worried I'm going to do something…I don't know. Illegal?"

"Are you?"

"No."

"Then what did you mean when you said you were going to make him wish he'd never been born? Because usually that means someone's ready to get illegal," I said, letting out a nervous laugh.

"Spencer, you have to know that I would never jeopardize my future with you or Maggie for that asshole, ok? Do I have a bit of ammunition against him? Yes. Is it going to somehow send me to prison? No. You have nothing to worry about."

I nodded, "Ok, I just wanted to make sure. I appreciate that you feel protective of me or whatever, but you have to know that I can take care of myself too."

"I know. But this one is my fault. And so it's my responsibility to take care of it."

"No way. No way this is your fault. You don't really think that, do you?"

"All I mean is that it's me that Aiden's mad at. But he knows he can get to me by hurting you and so…he did. And while I know I'm not the one who physically hurt you, I can't deny my role in it either. So you have to let me do what I can to make it up to you. You just…you have to."

"I'm not going to punish you. If that's what you're asking me to do, then I'm telling you right now that I can't."

She shook her head, "That's not what I'm asking. I'm asking you to let me make him pay for what he did. And I promise you I won't do anything stupid, ok? I promise."

"Fine," I say, shrugging.

"Good. Now can we go?" she asks, smiling sweetly as she stares down at my bulging suitcase.

"Let's."

---------------------------

A few short hours later we were ready to say goodbye forever to the Dennison House. My room looked as though I had never lived in it at all and since Ashley had never been one for personal touches (at least not in this sense), hers looked as it always had—sterile.

"I booked us a hotel, but they can only do a week at a time so after that we can find somewhere else. I mean, it shouldn't be hard but maybe we should start looking now just in case, you know? And if we can't then…"

"That's fine," I say, stopping Ashley mid-ramble.

She had been really anxious for the last hour, talking non-stop and moving around like crazy.

"Ok, good. Great. Alright, so cool."

"Are you ok?"

"Me? Yeah, totally."

"You're nervous. Is it about Aiden?"

"What? No…no, of course not."

"Then what is it? And don't tell me it's nothing because it's obviously something. A big something."

"Fine, you're right."

"As usual."

"And modest," she says, grinning momentarily. Then I notice her body growing more rigid—a sign that she's ready to be serious about something.

"Talk to me," I say quietly, sensing her need to unload.

"It's Kyla."

I had almost forgotten about her to be perfectly honest.

"Oh."

"Yeah, it's just weird leaving her behind in this house. I mean, if I could I would convince her to leave but she always does the opposite of what I say just to prove a fucking point. And as much as she gets on my nerves, I love her. I want her to get out of this situation. Especially now that I know Aiden's true colors."

"Of course."

"Do you think she would listen to me?"

"I don't know if I know her well enough to answer that, Ash."

"I know. I just…I know."

"But you can try. Maybe she'll listen. I mean, it's worth a shot, right?"

"The only thing is…"

"What?"

"We still don't know who told Aiden about us being together. And if—God forbid—it's Kyla who told, then what? I can't trust her."

"Like I told you in the car, I'm almost sure it's Madison. Look, she lied to me about sleeping with my dad. I fucking encouraged it. I wanted to see how far she'd go and she didn't disappoint. Well, technically she did. But she also did what it took to get my highest-paying client away from me. It's fucking sad that in this business you have to set girls up just to see if you can trust them. I mean, we're living under the same roof with that lying bitch."

Ashley shook her head, "What do you expect?"

"I don't know, but even though my dad disappointed me, somewhere deep inside I knew he wouldn't fuck her. I was scared on some level that he had, and I panicked. But I knew, you know? I knew that he didn't. That's a trust I never had with these girls."

"You have it with me."

She was right. Here I was about to start a new life with the girl I trusted the least in this house. Life is funny that way.

"True. But my point is that I had it with my dad because he's my family. Don't you feel that will Kyla?"

"I just don't know. She's so desperate to win. And I don't even know what the game is but she wants it just so she can say she has something over me. That's fucking scary."

"I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

"I'm sorry that you don't feel close to your family. As horrible as mine is, they're still where I come from. It's a bond I couldn't avoid even when I wanted to."

"I have you. And soon I'll have Maggie. That's all I need."

I smiled at her before I found her lips, moving forcefully against my own. Kissing her would never be something ordinary, commonplace. Every time I felt her tongue slip into my waiting, ready mouth it was significant.

"I can't believe I'm going to have you all to myself all the time," she said, pulling away slightly.

"I know, right? We're going to be exhausted."

"I can't wait."

"I can't either," I said, pulling her in for another kiss.

Suddenly there was the sound of the door slamming and feet being led to the kitchen where Ashley and I were sitting at the bar. Ashley's face looked grim and I imagine mine matched hers because we both knew who it was.

"Ladies, how are you?" Madison said, grinning insincerely.

Not exactly who we were expecting, but not a welcomed surprise either.

"Madison," Ashley said, plainly.

"Going somewhere?" the lying whore asked, dropping her purse on the counter, "I see a truck outside."

"We're leaving actually," I reply.

"Seriously?"

Ashley and I both nod. We're unwilling to give her any additional details. She couldn't be trusted with even the most insignificant information.

"Like forever?"

"Yeah, like forever."

"That's so sad! I can't believe it!" she said, actually managing to pull off sadness pretty well. Like I said, the best always can.

"Is it?" a voice said from the archway of the kitchen, "because I think it's about fucking time."

----------------------------

Kyla.

But how could I have known? Who was I to even think I could comprehend the fragile relationship between her and Ashley? I was out of my league on this one. I knew nothing of the actual desperation of needing the job psychologically or monetarily.

I felt like a fraud.

"What does this have to do with you, Kyla?" Ashley asked quietly.

I could literally see the disappoint sinking into her features. She hadn't wanted to be right. But she knew she was.

"You sleep with Aiden and somehow manage to get more clients that everyone else. Do you think I'm an idiot? You don't think I see the real fucking picture here, Ashley?" Kyla fired back, closing the gap between them.

"You followed me into this business. I didn't ask you to be here and if you hate me so much that you were willing to potentially hurt both me and Spencer then I don't see why you wouldn't just leave. I don't get that."

"It's easy money and you're not the only one who needs it."

"You're the one that got his inheritance, Ky! Not me!"

What inheritance? Whose?

"He gave it to me because he trusted me with it. Because I had grown up with nothing while you…while you…"

"While I dealt with the reality of living with two destructive people who were spiraling out of control? But you're right. We were rich so I guess that makes up for a fucked up childhood, right? That's all it takes…money? That makes everything easier?"

"You had him!" Kyla screamed, the tears starting to stream.

"I had no one! I had no one! Don't you get it? He was a fucking addict, Kyla! Your mom knew what she was doing by keeping you away from him."

"She made the decision for me. It wasn't her call."

"Maybe one day you'll understand this. Maybe when you're a parent you'll understand what it's like to want the best for your child. And just maybe you'll look back and see why she did it."

"What the fuck would you know about being a mother?"

I expected Ashley to explode. I think anyone would've felt she was validated, but instead she took a deep breath, her eyes closing for several seconds before she spoke again, "I love my daughter. I want her to be happy. I want to watch her grow up and I want to make sure she's safe. And that's all I know. If that's not enough to make me a mother, then I guess you're right. But I want her back more than you've ever wanted anything in your entire fucking life, Ky. I promise you that."

Kyla was silent, shifting uncomfortable as Ashley continued, "I can also promise you that if you put Spencer in the middle of our bullshit again, then you will regret it."

"I wasn't trying to hurt anyone. I just wanted the credit I deserve!"

"Well you did. It's not my place to say how, but you did."

"Listen, I don't know about you guys but if I'm in danger or something then I want to know," Madison said, reminding me that she was still in the kitchen hearing all of this with me, "I'm serious. That shit's only fair, Ashley."

Ashley looked at me. She knew it wasn't her place to talk about what happened, but she also didn't want anyone else to suffer at Aiden's hands. And no matter the strain between them, she still wanted to protect her sister.

"It's about Aiden," I say quietly.

"What about him?" Madison responds quickly.

She looks nervous, as if she already knows what I'm about to say.

"When he found out about me and Ashley…about us being together and moving out and everything he got really upset and…and he came up to my room and he…he forced himself on me."

"Oh God," Kyla whispered, look absolutely horrified.

"He also threatened to hurt both of us if I didn't convince her," I say, gesturing towards Ashley, "to stay."

"But you guys are moving, right? I mean, I saw you moving stuff out."

"We're not going to let him threaten us into staying. It's not even an option," Ashley said, her eyes on her sister, "and I'd suggest that the both of you follow suit and get the hell out of here."

"I can't do that. I need this job and there's nowhere else for me to go," Madison said, shaking her head.

"You can't tell me you don't have the money to do it."

"Ashley, look. I get why you and your girl have to get out of here. But some of us just try to stay under the radar and make our money. Period. Aiden's never even raised his voice with me and I'm sure as hell not sleeping with him so there's no weird shit going on with that."

"Maddie…"

"No, I'm serious. This shit wouldn't have even happened if you didn't fuck the guy and if Kyla could've kept her fucking mouth shut. But since I don't have any family here and I'm not a dyke, I'm probably going to be ok and I can continue making a profit…more profit, actually. Since you two won't be here."

I hadn't expected much, though slightly more than that from Madison. But at the end of the day, this was about turning your back on the easy money. And that was just as hard as one would imagine.

"What about you?" Ashley asked her sister.

Kyla's tears hadn't subsided since earlier and she hadn't even taken the time to wipe the old ones away. She looked devastates, as if the reality of her grudge had just shown her what it was capable of and it was too much.

"I don't have anything else," she said with a shrug, "I don't know what else to do."

"You have your mother."

"So I just go home?"

"You go home. You figure out what you want to do and you thank God that you have that option."

"Spencer, I know you hate me…" Kyla said, finally making eye contact.

"I don't hate you. You're partly to blame, yeah. But I don't hate you. I know you didn't think it would go that far. And now I have to live with it because it did go that far. But so do you. Maybe that's punishment enough."

"He won't get anything else out of me, I promise. And Ash, I guess I'll see you?"

"You'll see me," Ashley said with a quick nod, "Spencer, you ready?"

It was finally time to say goodbye. To the house. To the job and the girls and the past. It was time to move on. And I was absolutely ready.

"Let's go."

------------------

Ashley and I drove in a necessary and comfortable silence to the hotel. The lights of the city shone in on her face and she seemed so peaceful it was hard to recognize her. I knew that she knew there was still a lot left to deal with.

Kyla.

Aiden.

Maggie.

But tonight there was only us and the naïve electricity of finally moving forward. There was the intimate camaraderie of doing it together. I felt invincible. I had been hurt by Aiden. I had even been hurt by myself, but I was still here. There was still time.

We checked into the hotel under some stranger's name. It surprised me to hear Ashley say it when asked, but it made perfect sense. We were still in escape-mode. Dennison House runaways.

"Lorna Smith, huh? I laughed as we collapsed on the king-sized hotel bed, "that's very subtle."

"What? It was the first name that came to my head."

"Lorna Smith is the first name that comes to your head?!"

"Shut up. There's nothing wrong with that name," she said with a grin.

"Whatever you say."

"Are you ok, Spence?" she asked, lying on her side so she could see my face directly.

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm just glad to be here with you. And I'm glad to know the truth…even though I'm still not sure what you plan on doing to silence Aiden."

"Well, I can give you a hint if you want."

"Oh yeah?"

She nodded.

"Ok, then let's hear it."

"Aiden's money is tied up in stocks. At least, the money he makes from being a broker. But it's up and down. It's a risky career."

"He has the Dennison House, though. Lots of money there."

"True, but he needed money to start that too. The house and everything. So where does he get it from?"

I shrug, "He sells Avon?"

She laughs, "No, his wife. She's fucking loaded. Her parents own some kind of business in Connecticut."

"Does she know where the money goes?"

"Of course not. But if she did…"

"I see."

"He's been telling her it's for little side projects and he always replaces it, but still…if your husband is doing something mysterious with your money that he never quite explains, you get suspicious."

"That's a big hint."

"Yeah, well…I didn't want you to worry about me slipping arsenic in his food or anything. Like I said, all we need is leverage."

"I hope so."

"We'll be fine."

My phone rang from inside my purse and I jumped up to look at the caller ID.

"It's Glen," I say aloud.

What could he possibly want now?

"You should answer it," Ashley said, sitting up, "it could be about Maggie."

So I press the green button, "Hello?"

"I need to talk to you, Spence. It's about Ashley."


	12. Chapter 12

_Watch out...this is the last one...;)_

**Chapter 12:**

I took the call outside. Even though it was freezing, I didn't want to talk to my brother in front of Ashley. I can't explain why. Maybe the reality of their connection was still too much for me to process. Maybe I wasn't yet ready to engage in the battle between them. But either way, I took the call outside.

"What do you want, Glen?"

"Before you go all crazy on me, I want to remind you that I'm your family. She's just some…"

"You know that I'm not afraid to hang up on you, right? I mean, I hope you don't think that I'm going to listen to you go on and on about what kind of person she is and not defend her and then hang up on you."

"Jesus…ok! I get it. There's no reason to get all worked up."

"What do you want? I'm serious."

"I need to know what's about to happen. Is this about to turn into some custody war? Because I really don't want to put Madeline through that shit."

"Glen, the only reason there's a war to begin with is because of you!"

"Just tell me what Ashley wants."

"You'd have to talk to her, not me."

"But since you wanted to be right in the middle of this, I'm talking to you. You're my fucking sister for Christ's sake. Can you at the very least tell me what the fuck is going on?"

"No."

"She wants custody."

"She wants to see her daughter. Absolutely. I don't think it's full-custody that she's after. And I'm more than willing to vouch on your behalf when it comes to your ability to parent. You're a complete asshole, but you're a good father. I realize that."

"Does she?"

"Does Ashley?"

"Yeah."

"I've told her, but Glen, you have to understand that it's hard for her right now to see anything about you as positive."

"I don't want to lose my daughter."

"Then talk to Ashley. Work something out. This only goes to court if you're unwilling to negotiate. Either way you have to make it so that she gets to see Maggie—legally."

"There are people that I could talk to, I guess."

"Then talk to them."

"You make sure she knows that she's not taking my daughter anywhere. She stays in L.A."

"Do your part and I'll do mine."

"Fair enough."

I hung up the phone and walked back inside. Ashley smiled nervously. She attempted to look casual, but I could tell she had been sitting on pins and needles waiting for me to tell her what he wanted. Waiting to see if she could be reunited with her daughter.

"He doesn't want you to move."

"Fine. What else?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"When will you know?"

"He'll probably call again."

"When?"

"I don't know."

"Anything else? Did he say anything else?"

I shook my head and joined her on the bed, "Sorry, but so far that's all I know. I mean, he sounded ready to negotiate, but I don't want you to get your hopes up. If it comes down to a custody battle then he could get hurt too. And of course he'll try to prevent that. That's all I can say right now."

"Ok, well…" she mumbled, looking defeated, "we just wait then, I guess."

"I guess."

"Can I be honest with you, Spencer? I don't know how long I can do that. I mean, it was one thing when I was at the Dennison House and I was working and I could think about the day I'd have her back. But now that it's here…now that I'm about to finally do something about it…"

"It feels like time is standing still?"

"Yeah. Yeah, exactly. But it just started. It just started today."

"I know this is hard for you, Ashley. But you have to stay positive, you know? Just hope that my douchebag brother comes to his senses."

"Or we go to court."

"Or…we go to court."

---------------------

Several hours later, there was nothing more to be said. We had talked Maggie, apartments, Aiden, and Kyla until we were exhausted of all the talking. The talking simply covered up the truth, which was that we were finally free. We were finally in charge of planning our futures as we wanted them. And the pressures that came with the form of reality we had run away from all those years ago had finally caught up to us.

"I'm so tired," she said, pressing her warm body against my side, "are you ready for bed?"

"Definitely."

"I mean, we can talk some more if you want."

"No more talking. No more thinking. Just sleeping."

"Just sleeping?" she asked with a mischievous grin.

"Ok, wait. Weren't you the one who just said you were tired? That was you, right?"

"Oh come on. Everybody knows that's code."

"Oh yeah? Everyone knows that?"

She nodded, "Uh-huh."

But before I could respond, her face suddenly changed.

"What is it?" I asked nervously.

"I'm so sorry."

"What?"

"Aiden…I know you're not ready to…because…"

"Ash, listen…one day I'll have to really process what happened. Not just the Aiden stuff but the job period…as a whole. What Aiden did really hurt me. Physically, emotionally…he betrayed my trust. But I don't associate sex with power, and that's what he wanted. Power. Being with you is completely different than being forced into sex with him. Not for everyone, but for me. And that's all that matters."

"Are you sure?"

I leaned over, pressing my lips against hers. Kissing her with a passion that hadn't changed. Hadn't faltered. Because I was still in love with her. Because touching her still felt right.

When I pulled away her eyes remained closed, a slow smile spreading across her face, "I still love that."

"Me too."

----------------------------------------

The next morning, I was awakened by the sound of my cell phone. I knew who it was before I even saw the caller ID.

"Glen."

"We can meet you somewhere."

"Who? You and who else?"

He sighed, "Me and Madeline."

I was completely caught off guard, "Seriously?"

"Listen, if we're going to do this…if Ashley's going to be back in Madeline's life, legal or otherwise then I'd like it to be done slowly, ok? Maybe a few times a week while Ashley and I decide what we do next. I don't want this thing in court, Spencer. I don't want to do that to her."

"Maggie?"

"Who else?"

"Don't you think it's Ashley you need to talk to about this? I mean, I'm fine acting as the messenger temporarily but we both know eventually you two have to talk about this."

"Yeah, well…we can work all that out later. So does she want to meet or not?"

"Of course. I mean, I know she does. Where?"

"The park, maybe? The one by mom and dad's house. Madeline loves it."

"Sure, ok. Great. When?"

"Let's say noon."

"I'll tell her."

"Fine."

"Glen?" assassination

"What?"

"You have to know this is the right thing to do. You know you're doing the right thing."

"I hope I am. Because I don't want to regret this, Spencer. I don't want to wake up tomorrow and wonder what the hell I was thinking."

"You won't. I promise."

"How? How can you promise that? Do you even know her?"

"I know her."

"Where did you meet? How long have you been together? And wait, here's a better question. Since when was she into chicks?"

---------------------------

I had evaded Glen's questions. Not that I necessarily knew the answers anyway. But the last thing I wanted to do was say the wrong thing and put Ashley's potential freedom to see her daughter in jeopardy. It wasn't my place, nor was it a mistake that I felt could be forgiven.

When I told Ashley the news, naturally she was in shock. She couldn't believe she was actually going to be face-to-face with Maggie after all this time, after all this waiting and wanting. But if everything went according to plan, by this time tomorrow she would be reunited with her daughter, Glen would recognize fully the error of his ways, and we could all move on with our completely sorted lives.

Or so I hoped.

"I don't know what to wear," Ashley said, rifling through her suitcase.

"Do you think she cares, Ash? I mean, she's a kid. Do kids even pay attention to stuff like that?"

"I know. You're right. But I need something to freak out about, ok?"

"Why?"

"Why? Because if I freaked out about what I should actually be freaking about—which is seeing my daughter—then I would lose it. Like, that would be too much. So instead I'm going to focus my energy on something that doesn't really matter."

"Well," I said, watching her from my reclining position on the hotel bed, "you could always focus your energy on me."

She smiled, "But you kind of matter a little bit."

"How much?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.

"A little bit. I'd say probably…this much," she replies, spacing her fingers a centimeter apart.

"Wow, I'm starting to really grow on you, huh?"

"Absolutely."

"Prove it."

"Prove it?"

"Come here," I said, gesturing towards the empty space next to me.

She walked on her knees across the bed until she was pressed against my left side, "Now what?"

I pulled her down on top of me, crashing her lips into my waiting ones and seeking her tongue again and again. It had been way too long since I had felt the welcomed pressure of her body on mine. And with hours to spare and everything falling into place, I could think of nothing more appropriate than showing her—physically—how much I loved her.

But fate was cruel, and an authoritative knock drew us reluctantly out of our own fragile world.

"Did you order room service or something?" she asked, walking towards the door, "who is it?"

There was no answer.

"Who is it?" Ashley tried again, glancing back at me with a bewildered expression. I simply shrugged, equally curious to know the source.

She waited a moment more before swinging the door open.

Aiden.

Just when everything was finally coming together, reality showed up with a menacing grin.

"Ladies," he said, pushing the door open and sailing right past Ashley.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered, finding it difficult to speak.

"What do you mean, Spencer? I'm here to say hello, of course. So…hello."

His grin was infuriating, and it settled itself in the pit of my stomach. I felt nauseated. I wanted to run. But Ashley was there, still standing by the open door with the strangest expression on her face.

"You need to leave," she said, softly. But her voice was clear and even.

Ashley wasn't the type of person who screamed to make her point known.

"That seems a bit too easy, doesn't it?

"Aiden…"

"Hey, hey…calm down," he said, taking a seat on the complimentary wooden desk, "you guys act like we're not friends. But we are, aren't we? We're good friends. I've fucked you both, after all. I suppose that's more of a friends with benefits situation, huh?"

I looked at Ashley, who appeared surprisingly composed.

"Aiden," she said, walking slowly towards him, "you need to leave. You either leave without a fight or you leave with security, but either way, you leave. You have no options. You have no power. You have no threats. This is it for us, and you need to let it go. There are girls all over this city waiting to get in that house. I suggest you go find them, because Spencer and I are never coming back. Do you understand that?"

His smile faltered slightly, "Is that right?"

"That's absolutely right…it's totally and completely right. I'm asking that you not make this any more dramatic or difficult than it absolutely needs to be. Because while I have the desire to take a nail file to your miniscule dick, I would much rather just never see you again."

"It's not over, Ashley. It's never, ever over. And life will never be a walk in the park for you. I can assure you of that," he said, his smile returning.

"A walk in the park, huh?" she said, suddenly gesturing towards me, "Spencer's going to call the front desk. Leave."

"Oh yeah?"

"Or I kill you."

"Who's the one being dramatic again?" Aiden asked, chuckling softly.

But he left, Ashley slamming the door behind him.

We were silent until she walked towards me, enveloping me in a tight, protective hug.

"I'm so sorry."

"I'm ok," I said, squeezing her back, "I promise. But I have to know something."

She pulled away from me, "What is it?"

"I guess there are a lot of things I need to know."

"Anything you want to know, just ask. I'm serious, Spencer. Anything."

"Why? Why would he just leave like that?"

"He knew I wasn't bluffing. If he had stayed and threatened you, I would've killed him."

Her cold expression scared me. It reminded me of the Ashley I had first been introduced to. It reminded me of a darker version of the woman I had fallen in love with.

"How?"

"I would've shot him."

"With what?"

She untangled herself from me completely, walking over to her suitcase. She unzipped the bulging front pocket and pulled out a gun. The shiny weapon glowed underneath the room's lighting and it sent a chill down my spine.

Even from where I was I could make out the etched initials in the metal.

A.D.

Ashley Davies.

"Since when did you carry that around?"

"Since…I don't know. Forever?" she said with a laugh. But I wasn't humored.

I was scared.

"Why?"

"Why do you think? For protection. For moments like that."

"Put it away. It's freaking me out."

"No problem," she said, zipping it back up in its compartment.

She must've read my expression because she quickly walked towards me again, "The safety's on. Don't worry, ok?"

"I'm not worried. I just don't like guns."

"Yeah, well…I don't either. But I also don't like being taken advantage of or caught off guard. Alas…"

I nodded, "I mean, I know a lot of girls have them—especially in the business, but I knew I never could. It would've done me more harm than good, I think."

"They're not for everybody."

She looked at me, silently pleading that I let it go. I was getting better at reading her various faces and body language, but maybe that was all I knew. Maybe I didn't know enough. Maybe Glen was right.

"I'm going to take a nap. I'm exhausted," I said, walking around to my side of the queen bed.

"Are you sure?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

She shrugged, "Ok, then I'll take one too."

She crawled beside me, spooning me from behind.

But her touch felt foreign, and I couldn't quite comprehend why. Maybe I really did need to rest.

----------------------------------

The next day I felt better. More sure that I was simply over-reacting, relying too much on pure instinct. If anything was actually wrong, it was probably just my nerves.

The rest of the night had been better as well. Ashley and I managed to carry on as normal, despite all of the elephants sharing the room with us. We ordered room service, watched mindless television, and talked about her excitement over seeing Maggie. I was thrilled for her.

And I watched her shift nervously as we approached the park. She had asked me to drive. She was too nervous. And I happily obliged, steering us to the location and parking by the curb. I could already make out Glen and Madeline on the swing set.

"I can't believe this," she said, exhaling loudly, "I seriously can't."

"Well, it's happening. You've waited all this time and now here you are."

"Here I am."

"Ash…"

"Yeah?"

"Get out of the car, ok?"

She laughed, "I'm trying.

We both exited together, walking slowly over the high slope of the park's entrance and down to where Glen and Madeline were swinging side-by-side. I smiled, looking at Ashley. She looked excited yet terrified. Joyful yet concerned.

"Hi," I said, nodding at Glen.

"What's up, Spence?" he replied, but his eyes were all over Ashley, "Ashley…hello."

"Hey, Glen."

"Madeline, this is Ashley…she's your…"

"Your aunt's friend," Ashley said quickly, walking over to shake Maggie's tiny hand.

"Hello!" she said, returning Ashley's handshake before resuming her swinging.

Glen looked confused, "Look, she knows she has a mom, ok? We can tell her the truth—especially if you guys are going to be spending a lot of time together."

I looked at my asshole brother and for the first time, I saw someone decent.

"Can I have a minute with her then? To explain everything?" Ashley asked.

"Sure. Um…Spence, you want to go sit on that bench?" he asked, pointing several feet away.

"Absolutely. We'll see you two in a few minutes."

Glen and I walked away, both looking over our shoulders as Ashley took the swing beside Maggie.

"This is good, Glen. This is really, really good," I said, sitting down on the worn, wooden bench.

He nodded, "She needs her mother. I can see that now. And I know there's no going back in time and making this up to her, but I've got to start somewhere."

"You do."

"If you trust her, then I trust her. It's been a long time. We've all changed in some way."

"You wouldn't believe the way some of us have changed."

A typical, cinematic fog settled over L.A. as Glen and I sat and talked. It had been such a long time since we had actually heard one another. It had been a long time since we cared to listen. Every once in awhile, we would both turn our heads and see Ashley and Maggie deep in conversation as well or Ashley pushing her gently on the swing.

Everything seemed right, for once. Everything was in its proper place.

I took a deep breath, breathing in the new beginning and exhaling the past. Letting it go just like that.

My brother's voice brought be back to earth.

"Where are they? Do you see them?"

I looked at Glen, his face serious, "What?"

"Do you see Madeline and Ashley? They're not on the swing anymore."

"Maybe they're on the slide or something."

"She hates it. She hates the slide."

Glen stood up, running to the playground. I followed quickly behind him, barely making out his form in the dense fog.

"Madeline!" he screamed, his face red and panicked.

Oh God.

"Ashley?" I called, quietly.

They were nowhere to be seen, but Glen screamed anyway. He screamed over and over and over, sounding like every bad movie I had ever seen.

"She took her," he said, finally, "she fucking took her."

"We don't know that."

"Look around, Spencer! They're gone!"

I quickly scanned the park with my eyes. He was right.

But he couldn't be.

He absolutely could not be right, because that meant I had been so absolutely wrong.

We searched for almost an hour before Glen suggested we take his car and search the neighborhood. But as we walked towards his vehicle, I saw Ashley's still parked right where I had left it.

"Glen, her car's still here."

"What?"

"Her car. It hasn't moved. They can't be far."

"Come on," he replied, jumping in the driver's side of his Pathfinder.

But no street, no cul-de-sac showed signs of them. No polite neighbor had seen them. It was almost as if they had vaporized.

I called Mom and Dad. He called the police. The nagging fear that my instincts had been right just wouldn't go away as we drove back to the house.

I watched helplessly as Glen talked to the police as we stood in the living room of our childhood home. My mother was in tears, and my father looked sad but stoic as he held her.

This was all my fault.

I had been completely fucking blind.

-----------------------------------

After the police questioned me—seeming unconvinced when I explained that I had met Ashley at the library—I collapsed on the couch. I reached for my purse and found my phone, wondering why I hadn't thought to call her before.

It went straight to voicemail.

"Ashley, this is Spencer. I don't know what's going on or why…you're making a mistake. Glen was willing to split custody. You heard him. So why would you do this? And I…I guess I was just a pawn, right? I was a fucking pawn. That doesn't matter. What matters is Madeline. Ashley, you've got to bring her back."

I didn't know what else to say. And just as I was ready to throw my phone on the couch and cry, it rang. I didn't even bother to look at the caller I.D.

"Ashley?"

"No, no. It's Kyla."

"I'm kind of in the middle of something right now."

"Trust me, I know. That's why I'm calling."

"What's going on?"

"She called me. Just a few minutes ago she called me. She told me she had her daughter. Spencer, the thing is…"

"What?"

"This has been a set-up since the very beginning."

"I'm starting to figure that out now," I said, swallowing back the tears.

"But she didn't know Aiden was going to rape you, I swear."

"Wait…what? What does this have to do with Aiden?"

"They're together, Spencer. They've been together all along. He's the one that picked her up at the park."

A walk in the park, he said. She had told him. They were rubbing it in my face.

The gun.

A.D.

Aiden Dennison.

Or was it really hers?

Did I know anything for sure?

Had anything been real?

"Spencer?"

"I'm still here."

"I'm sorry that I waited so long to tell you. But you have to believe me, I didn't know it was going to go this far."

"It's about to go even further, Kyla," I said, nodding as I realized what I had to do, "because I'm going to find them…and I'm going to get my niece back. And then…and then, I'm going to take their fucking lives."


End file.
